Life with the Goblin King: What Happened After
by HachimansKitsune
Summary: This story picks up where 'Science Fiction-Double 'Fae'Ture left off and tells what happens to J & S after that fateful night. See the fights  and making up , fun, fluff and silliness that ensue! Mature content, language, lemons, and serious snogging.
1. A Woman Scorned

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything…but I'd happy snog Jareth senseless given half a chance!

**Warning:** Mature content for language and sexual situations

**A/N:** This whole story is a spin off from my other story "Science Fiction-Double 'Fae'Ture. (.net/s/7213328/1/Science_FictionDouble_Faeture) You'll want to read that story before starting with this one, as everything in this story happens AFTER the events in that story.

Also, for the readers of SFDF, while the Sarah & Jareth pairing is the same, this particular story shows a very different angle of them. It is not the 'playful' side that the previous story showed. The playfulness will be back in the next story though – what I am sharing here is, much to HisNib's chagrin, what happened and just goes to show that the path to true love rarely runs smoothly!

As always….please read and review. The more reviews I get, the faster I am likely to churn out additional chapters and 'mini-stories' within this larger story.

Thanks!

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><p><strong>A Woman Scorned<br>**

_In which Sarah falls victim to of one of the seven deadly sins _

_OR_

_In which we see if make-up sex is powerful magic_

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><p>She stood in the queue at the bar, the pounding techno rhythm vibrating through the floors sending imperceptible shivers up her legs, to throb in her belly. In the dim light of the club, she stood out, a dark angel amidst a crowd of Barbie doll clones and Stepford sorority girls in their little black dresses and pearls.<p>

He watched as she grew impatient, pushing her way to the front of the queue, to lean against the bar, ignoring the appreciative eyes of the males around her as they poured over her figure. With a haughty smirk she wriggled to the music, teasing them further. The green satin and black lace corset set off the paleness of her skin, giving her almost an ethereal glow, thrusting her breasts upward.

While waiting for the bartender to return to her end of the queue, she ran a manicured hand over the smooth black leather of her skirt, which finished at mid-thigh, giving way to black thigh high stockings and thigh high black leather boots.

When the bartender waved at her she slammed a twenty down on the counter and yelled over the noise, "Give me a double Goldschlager shot and a Candy Apple chaser, Andy."

Sliding between the bodies of those behind her, he pressed himself against her, his fingers pulling the hair away from her neck, watching the way she unconsciously arched her neck toward the side in response to his touch. He leaned forward, biting the tender point where her shoulder and neck met.

"Knock it off, Jackson," she grumbled, reaching for the drink that had been set before her.

"Just who is Jackson and why would he be biting your neck, Precious?" Jareth asked, his voice steely and cold, despite the heated press of bodies around them, his slender fingers digging harshly into her neck and hip.

Ignoring him, Sarah picked up the shot glass, swirling it gently, finding herself momentarily lost in the way the gold flakes tumbled through the crystal clear liquid, the scent of cinnamon wafting from the top of the glass.

"Go away, Jareth," she snapped scathingly, "I'm drinking and having you here is going to ruin the good buzz I've got going."

Sarah tossed back the shot in one quick gulp, her thick chocolate colored tresses dancing over the ivory flesh of her back with the forcefulness of her movement. Slamming the shot glass back on the counter, she shook her head violently, and with a cough barked at the bartender, "Again, Andy."

Frowning, the sandy haired bartender picked up the empty glass, watching as Sarah up-ended the other part of her drink, a sweet green mixture of his own creation. Watching her carefully, his brown eyes narrowed with concern.

"Honestly Sar, that is your third one. I'm not sure I want to give you another," he said, worried about the way his girlfriend's best friend was drinking. "Gina would have my hide if she knew I gave you a fourth."

"That wasn't a request Andy," Sarah glowered. "As for Gina, the answer is simple, don't tell her."

Jareth gripped Sarah's arm, attempting to turn her around, but she snarled at him, shrugging his hand from her arm.

"Why are you still here?" she hissed, her green eyes flashing angrily at him.

He looked at her, his mismatched eyes narrowing sharply. As always, she was stunning, but tonight the air around her buzzed with something else, something new.

"Sarah, I think you have had enough to drink. It is time for you to stop and go home," he said firmly, his voice low, yet stern.

Snatching the refilled shot glass from Andy's hand she whirled to face Jareth, allowing him to fully see the extent of her fury. In all the years he had been part of her life, he had yet to see her truly angry and he was both surprised and aroused. Her fury was palpable, buzzing around her fiercely. Her jade eyes were searing in their ferocity as they looked at him, as if seeing through him.

Sarah faced Jareth, her eyes roving over him, as a malicious sneer played over her cranberry colored lips. She had wanted to tell him off for the last month, and now that she had the opportunity to do so, all she could do was berate herself for the fact that she wanted him – desperately. 'Damn him,' she thought, he had to show up tonight wearing her favorite outfit, the black leather pants that left nothing to the imagination and the black silk button down shirt she had given him for Christmas. The fact that he was wearing her favorite outfit ordinarily would have made it easier to forgive him anything, but tonight all it did was enflame her anger further.

Downing the shot in a gulp, he watched her face go red as she held her breath. She shut her eyes as the crystal liquid burned its way down her throat, to engulf her belly with flames. Taking a gasping breath, Sarah shook her head, then opened her eyes, fixing him with a defiant glare.

"I don't care what you think, Jareth. You have no pow…." she spurred maliciously at him, her voice low and forceful.

Jareth silenced her with a fierce kiss, his lips hard and punishing against hers. Drawing away, he snarled in her ear, "Careful Precious, you know words have power."

"So do actions, Jareth and your actions over the last month have said plenty. So you can just go to hell," she snapped at him.

Turning back to the bar, she waved another twenty at Andy and tapped her shot glass impatiently on the bar again.

"I haven't done anything, Sarah," Jareth replied, his voice intense, as his frustration with her burned to the surface.

"Exactly," she drawled, reaching for the refilled shot glass and downing it once more.

With an exasperated sigh, Jareth gripped her arm firmly, his eyes piercing hers as he looked at her.

"Sarah dearest, you had better start making sense. I do not understand why are you so angry with me, and furthermore, I do not appreciate your tone," he said, a steely edge to his voice as her actions taunted his regal bearing.

Jerking her arm from his grasp, Sarah glowered at him, then smiled sweetly at someone behind him. A tall, dark-haired man pushed his way through the crowd to join them, lightly resting his hand on Sarah's shoulder as he looked at Jareth, his dark eyes frowning at the tension between Sarah and the blonde man.

"Anything wrong, Sarah?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the blonde-haired man.

"No, Jackson. Everything is fine," she said, taking Jackson's hand in hers. "Let's dance some more."

Nodding, Jackson started to lead her through the crowd toward the dance floor.

"Sarah…" Jareth began, his voice laced with quiet fury, before he was cut off by Sarah.

"When you figure it out, Jareth, you know where to find me."

Jareth watched the pair wind their way to the dance floor, his eyes shining with barely restrained anger. As the throbbing beat of the music increased, the pair began to dance. Sarah pressed against Jackson, her hips meeting his as they moved to the music, one arm draped casually over his shoulder as her torso leaned back, the arch of her back showing off her creamy bosom. The grinding of her hips against his, made her long hair sway, lightly brushing against the bottom of her ass, as if intentionally drawing his eyes to her luscious curves. Seeing Jackson press his thigh between Sarah's legs as they danced, his hand caressing her ass as she bent over backward, rubbing herself against his thigh, was the last straw. His anger and desire for her boiling over, Jareth strode toward them, unaware that he had balled his fists so tight, he had drawn blood.

From her chair by the dance floor, Gina watched Sarah and Jackson dance, until she saw the familiar feathery blonde hair of Jeremy headed for the couple. "Uh-oh….here comes trouble," she said to Alyse, before hopping up and swiftly moving to intercept the handsome blonde.

"Jer!" she shouted, waving at him as she got close.

"Not now, Gina," he said venomously, never taking his eyes off Sarah.

Reaching out to him, Gina lightly tugged at his arm, trying to steer him away from where Sarah and Jackson were dancing.

"You don't really want to do this, Jer. You've hurt her pride and she is just blowing off steam. Let it go," she pleaded. "She's staying at my place tonight, why don't you come over for breakfast?"

Jareth frowned fiercely, "No. We will have this out tonight," he said, before pausing, his eyebrows knitting as a puzzled expression crossed his face. "What do you mean I've hurt her pride?"

Gina sighed, biting her lip as she shook her head, her pale eyes shining with worry.

"Damn it, Jer…you seriously don't get it do you? I think you're great and know you love her. Hell, I could see you two being ridiculously happy together, but at the moment, you are so far in the doghouse I don't know if you'll be able to get out. I hate to tell you man, but you've been a complete ass to her and if she never speaks to you again, she'd be justified."

Stopping cold, Jareth turned to look closely at Gina. She shivered when his cold gaze washed over her, his voice icy as he demanded, "Just _what_ am I supposed to have done?"

"Look Jer, I shouldn't tell you, that is for Sarah to do. But as a hint, it isn't what you _have_ done, it is what you_ didn't_ do for the last month."

Looking at the confused expression on his face, Gina shook her head and sighed, before grabbing his hand and starting to drag him through the crowd toward Sarah. "If you're going to have it out, you'll need some backup, so come on lover-boy."

Sarah glared at them, waves of anger pouring from her, as she turned away from them.

"Piss off, the both of you," she growled over her shoulder at them, never stopping her movements as she danced with Jackson.

"I've had quite enough of this attitude, Sarah dearest," Jareth hissed sharply at her. Gripping her arm tightly, he spun her into his chest, her arm pinned behind her, as he held her close to his body.

"Whoa!" yelled Jackson, his eyes wide as he moved toward Jareth, his hands balling into fists.

Gina intercepted Jackson, linking her arm in his, "Don't worry Jackson honey, it is just a little lovers spat. You need to come with me now sweetie."

"Lovers?" he asked, his brown eyes soft in his confusion.

Looking at Jareth and Sarah, Gina smiled and patted Jackson's arm, "Its…well…it's complicated. Come on, they need to talk … or fuck…I don't really care what, but they'd better get on with it because I've been having to deal with the fall out for the last month and I am soooo over it."

"Bitch…" growled Sarah viciously, attempting to rip herself out of Jareth's grasp as she lunged toward Gina.

"Sarah!" shouted Jareth in shock as he wrestled to keep hold of Sarah as she did her best to reach Gina.

"Its okay, Jer. She doesn't really mean it and I'll forgive her, but only after she talks to you and you two sort yourselves out. Dealing with her the last month has been like trying to catch a tiger by the tail – dangerous and painful." Gina pulled Jackson toward the tables, yelling over her shoulder, "Good luck, Jer! You're gonna need it!"

Gripping Sarah tighter, Jareth steered her bodily from the dance floor, toward a quiet hallway at the back of the club. As much as he hated going to clubs, at this particular moment he was glad that Sarah had made him go out with her and the girls before, so he knew the layout of this club. When they neared the edge of the floor, Sarah roughly jerked herself from his grasp.

"Get your hands off me," Sarah barked, her voice dripping venom as she looked at him.

"Precious," he began, trying to keep calm, when her attitude and actions were wearing quite thin.

"_You_…no longer have the right to call me that or any of the other things I always thought were endearments. They obviously mean _nothing_ to you, _Goblin King_," she hissed, stressing his formal title as she turned to walk away.

The wrath with which she spat out his title was the final straw. Jareth roughly grabbed her arm, spinning her off balance, before throwing her bodily over his shoulder, swiftly carrying her toward the hallway. When they reached the end of the hall, he dropped her down, then pinned her body firmly against the wall, a strong hand gripping her shoulder roughly to keep her in place. The fingers of his left hand entwined themselves tightly in her hair as he pulled her head back firmly, forcing her to hold still and look at him. Jareth wore his frustration like a mask, his eyes darkening dangerously as he glared down at her.

"You want the Goblin King, dearest? Well you've got him now," he snapped, his thin lips turned in a malicious sneer. "Since you are acting like a spoilt child, I've a good mind to throw you over my lap and treat you like one, Sarah. You have precisely three seconds to tell me what the hell is going on, or so help me I will drop you straight into an oubliette until you come to your senses."

Shoving at his chest hard, Sarah scowled at him. "Go ahead, you bastard. You've already been ignoring me, being in an oubliette won't be much different."

"Ignoring you…" he questioned, his anger momentarily clouded by confusion.

Sarah pounded her fists against him as hard as she could, screaming at him over the music streaming from the speakers.

"I always knew what you wanted from me, from the day of my 16th birthday until the last time you visited. I knew what you wanted…what you were grooming me for. I tried to tell myself it was all a game, flirting with you was fun and harmless. But damn you Jareth, you made me love you, so I gave you the only thing of value I had, the one thing I could never take back and what do you do? You take what you want from me then ignore me. A month…not a word, not a note, not even a bloody message sent via goblin post! Just ignore me like some cheap, two-bit whore. So _you_ Goblin King, can just FUCK OFF!"

Watching her rage at him, her face red, verdant eyes flashing with the intensity of her fury, Jareth felt his own anger transform. Jerking her head sharply toward him, he kissed her fiercely, his lips ravaging hers as his teeth nipped her bottom lip painfully. Despite her anger, he felt her respond, her lips parting as his tongue demanded entrance, plunging into the warm depths, as if trying to taste the anger that poured off of her. He heard her snarl against him, the sound low and feral as she dug her nails into his chest through the thin silk of his shirt, her violence and anger inflaming him further.

Breaking the kiss, Jareth tugged her head back, his cold eyes piercing hers with icy intensity that she hadn't seen since her run through the Labyrinth.

"I am King…" he began, his voice frosty, as he sneered at her. She struggled against him, trying to escape him, until he yanked harder on her hair, making her gasp, then growl at him. Tugging at her hair again he snarled, "No, Sarah. You _will_ listen to me. I have responsibilities to my kingdom. Things I must do to ensure that I remain King. I was _not_ ignoring you, I was _busy_."

"You think I don't know that you are King?" Sarah snarled. "Of course I fucking know that! That just makes it worse. You're a King and I'm some mortal nobody – but I am not going to be treated like some royal harlot that the King can pop in and fuck whenever he wants, and then ignore the rest of the time. I'm not going to be your sometime plaything!"

"Precious….you are hardly a nobody. You are the Lady of the Labyrinth. I have never thought of you as a mere plaything…" he whispered near her ear, his voice a velvet caress that reached inside and teased her very core.

Jareth captured her mouth once more in a soul-searing kiss, pouring all of his anger into raping her lips, bruising them with the force of his passion, the fine line between fury and outright lust not just blurred, but erased. He crushed her to him, pressing her painfully against the wall, the sound of her whimper spurring him on. Releasing her lips, he moved to her neck, biting down hard and relishing the way she cried out, struggling against him physically, while her body betrayed her desire, melting against him.

"I hate you, Jareth," she moaned, her voice laced with anger, tempered by lust.

"Keep telling yourself that, Precious. We both know it isn't true," he purred against her neck, his tongue flicking out to tease the fresh bite mark, before he sunk his teeth into her flesh once more, gripping her tightly to him as she writhed, snarling wildly as she raked her nails over the side of his neck, the searing sensation telling him she drew blood.

"You have no power…." she hissed, arching in his arms, partly trying to escape his clutches, and partly from the electric sensations his kisses and bites were sending rocketing through her veins, pooling into a deep pool of unadulterated lust in the pit of her belly.

Jareth tugged sharply on her hair, his mismatched eyes flaring intensely at her as he looked at her, a malicious smirk creeping across his face.

"Go on, finish that statement, dearest. The words only work if you truly mean them," he challenged, his tongue flicking lightly across her parted lips.

Fixing him with a piercing glare, her eyes pools of emerald lava, Sarah snarled viciously, "YOU….have NO…power over me, Goblin King."

He moved toward her, so his lips were almost touching hers, the feeling of his breath making her skin burn and her belly throb.

"Are you sure, dearest," he breathed, before attacking her lips, his teeth raking her tongue painfully.

Keeping a tight grip on her hair, Jareth released her shoulder, his right hand gliding down her side, firmly caressing the side of her breast and her hip, before reaching the hem of her skirt. He roughly pushed the skirt up to her hips, his fingers hooking the thin strap at the side of her knickers, before ripping it from her. Hearing her growl against his neck, jerking in his arms, he twisted his hand further into her hair, feeling her wince, as his other hand found her heat, before thrusting two fingers deep, a cruel laugh erupting from his throat as she moaned, her body trembling against him, as her leg lifted to hook around his hip.

"You say I have no power over you, Precious, but your body says otherwise," he sneered, his eyes black with the potent combination of anger and lust.

Removing his fingers, he wiped them along her inner thigh, as his teeth sharply nipped her bottom lip, making her flinch. Sarah's eyes shut as she cursed her traitorous body. She took a deep shuddering breath before speaking.

"_Fuck you, Goblin King_," she spat out, her words hoarse, but she was unsure if it was from her anger or the desire that coursed through her.

Jareth ran his hand up along her thigh at is wrapped around him, gripping her hip painfully as he jerked her toward him, before sliding it around to caress her ass.

"Yes, _that_ is exactly what I had in mind, dearest one," he growled huskily. "Shall we go somewhere more private," he suggested silkily as a couple wandered toward them down the hall.

Struggling against him, she shook her head, gasping as the movement pulled at her hair, still tightly wound in his hand.

"Not…leaving….club…with you…" she gasped out, trying desperately to form a coherent thought as his hand continued to explore her body, sliding back up under the skirt to caress the bare flesh of her ass.

Jareth pinned her against the wall with his body, a leather clad thigh thrust against the apex of her thighs, his height forcing her body weight to rest on his leg, grinding her heat against him. He watched her intently, an amused smirk teasing his lips as he saw her fighting the urge to writhe on his thigh, the subtle twitching of her hips belying the need inside her. Her breath hitched in her throat, partially due to the constriction of the corset, and part due to the tightness in her chest from his ministrations.

"Precious, for someone who objects to the idea of being thought of as a common whore, you are doing everything in your power to make me take you right here, right now," he drawled, his voice a sultry hum that made her very being vibrate.

Sarah couldn't think. She was living and breathing, but the connection between her brain and her mouth had derailed, as she was entirely consumed with the raging fires that burned throughout her body, screaming for one thing – Him. Before she could register what had happened, she discovered they were now in the private function room, her back slamming sharply against a wall as he pressed against her, his mouth searing hungrily against hers, as if he were going to devour her.

She felt his hand finally leave her hair, the blood rushing back to the tender area making her groan softly both from the tingling pain and the feeling of loss. The loss was short-lived as the hand made its way to her skirt, roughly shoving it upward, flicking over the exposed petals, slick with her body's betrayal. Whimpering, her other leg moved of its own accord, rising to wrap around his hips, her body held up by the pressure of his body pressing her painfully to the wall. She felt his body shift, his hands moving to grip her hips, his fingers digging in as he lifted her up, then dropped her, forcing her to impale herself; a blinding flash of crimson haze filling her mind at the sensation. No amount of reason could save her, she was a slave to the feelings he coaxed, no ripped from her. Sarah wrapped her arms around Jareth's neck, clinging to him as he moved her, moved in her, around her, everything, every where all at once.

"_This_," he murmured, his voice rasping harshly against the sensitive flesh of her neck as he punctuated the word with a sharp thrust, "is not what I was grooming you for dearest."

Sarah gasped at the force of his movements, arching against the wall as his sharp teeth attacked the creamy mounds of her breasts, framed by the top of the corset.

Rocking her hips firmly against him, he looked up, peering into her eyes and seeing the unrelenting lust of his own, reflected back in hers. He felt her surrender to him, her body melting and moving willingly against his as she moaned his name.

"This," he purred near her ear, his voice deep, low and tremulous with the force of his passion, "is just a perk of being my Queen, Pet."

Lost in the sensations raging through her, she heard his words, unable to form complete thoughts, her mouth open as she panted his name.

Struggling, she forced her mouth to obey her command, panting roughly, "Queen?...But…. I'm…. not…."

"You will be," he growled vehemently, before animalistic lust overtook him, tearing a soft scream from her lips as her body erupted around him. Sarah felt herself tumbling in her own head, swirling in the velvet fog that filled her mind as the inside of her eyelids flashed blindingly bright. Feeling her arch violently in his arms, thrusting herself harder against him, he lost his own battle, crushing her to him tightly as if he was afraid she would fade from his very existence with the force of their completion.

Panting, he held her tightly as they both gasped for air, her body quivering in his arms. When their breaths had slowed, he gently lowered her legs to the floor, covering her face with gentle kisses as his arms enfolded her tightly against his chest. Sarah sighed contentedly, molding herself to him. Feeling the slick wetness along her thighs, she blushed hotly.

Jareth murmured quietly, "Precious Sarah…you have always been mine." Feathering tender kisses over her eyes, nose, forehead, cheeks and lips, he continued, "I only shared you when you were younger and wanted to date. It was only fair. I wanted you to grow up, to imagine yourself with others, so that you would see that you only wanted me. But now, after last time, you belong only to me, always."

Kissing him gently, Sarah whispered, "There is something you need to know about Jackson…"

"No," he said, cutting her off sharply. "That is the past, I need to know nothing more than that you won't betray me again."

"Jareth….I…."

Silencing her with a kiss, Jareth pulled back and shook his head.

"No, Sarah. That is the end of it."

Pulling her close to him, he led her back to the main room of the club. Slowly they made their way through the throng of erotically charged dancers, grinding on the dance floor, until they came to the table that her friends were sitting at. Gina looked up from where she was sitting on Andy's lap, smiling as she nodded at them.

"Glad you two could join us. I assume you got things worked out," she grinned widely as Sarah blew her friend a kiss. "Yeah, you owe me _big_, Sar."

Jareth looked fiercely at Jackson, his arms wrapping possessively around Sarah, his whole demeanor that of an angry lion declaring – MINE. As he glared at the dark-haired man, a slender man with long blonde hair glided up to the table, before snaking his arms over Jackson's shoulders intimately. Surprised, Jareth looked from Jackson to Sarah.

Seeing his gaze, Sarah chuckled.

"That is what I tried to tell you. Jackson is…well…not into me. He wanted help making Brian jealous and apparently it worked," she explained, her eyes flashing with impish green sparks. "You have no competition, Goblin King. Why would I want a mere mortal when I have can have a Fae King instead?"

Raising an eyebrow sardonically, Jareth looked at her, then shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest.

"Come love, I'm taking you home," he instructed, his mismatched eyes soft, yet determined, there would be no more arguments tonight, he would have his way.

"Yours or mine?" she asked, running a hand through her hair and wincing pleasurably at the tender spots on her scalp.

"Ours, Sarah Precious….ours."


	2. A Feathered Fiasco of Goblin Proportions

**A Feathered Fiasco of Goblin Proportions (Part Un)**

It really wasn't his fault – in fact, if anyone was to blame, it was Puck.

_Fucking Puck, or Pucking Fuck…whatever. Damn him and his trickster hide regardless!_

Jareth had finally gotten Sarah right where he wanted her, naked, in his bed, and oddly enough, smeared with chocolate. Okay, so the chocolate cake was a bonus in his book. He hadn't planned on it. That was her idea, and being ever the gentleman, he was perfectly amenable to the suggestion. Alright, so maybe not a gentleman, but amenable…definitely.

After a blissful two days proving to Sarah that he was far better than this so-called 'Better Than Sex' chocolate cake, demonstrating in every way imaginable, including some that the author's of the Kama Sutra only wished they had dreamt up, Puck _– Fucking Puck –_ showed up and all hell broke loose. Or was it all Avalon broke loose? At any rate, it wasn't good and it cost him a full Underground week, which is a month Aboveground, suffering the pomp and circumstance at High Court to sort the mess out, and it wasn't over yet. Oh no, thanks to Puck – _Fucking Puck_ – it wasn't yet over by a long shot.

Thanks to Puck, he not only had to deal with the High King's ultimatim and the High Queen's meddling, but as evidenced by Sarah's behavior at the club last night, _her_ wrath as well. Of the three, he felt more comfortable dealing with Auberon and Tatiana. While their methods were unpredictable, often painful and at the very least cringe-inducing, of the three of them, he was betting that his father and step-mother would be kinder to him in the long run than Sarah when she knew the full story and what he needed her to do to set things right.

Peering down at the touseled head resting on his chest, Jareth sighed deeply.

_Yea Gods, this is going to be painful._

_You brought it on yourself, mate_ – interjected his inner-self helpfully.

_Best get it over with, then?_

_Gods above, man! Don't wake her yet. In fact, don't even think about telling her until she has had at least her first pot of coffee_ – his sense of self-preservation offered. For once, he was glad that his sense of self-preservation was as well developed as it was, which for a King, was a very useful thing indeed.

_Hmmm…sage advice._

_What can I say, sometimes I get lucky._ – nodded his self-preservation, observing the sleeping woman in his bed. _Although, I can't complain when you get lucky either._

And oh yes, he had indeed gotten lucky in the last 24 hours. Not only did Sarah _not_ kill him as the violent flashing of her green eyes had intimated when he first saw her at the club, but once he got her back to the castle, and had begged her forgiveness in all kinds of new and delicious ways until she begged him to stop as she could no longer feel her toes and sounded like she had swallowed a chorus line of frogs, she was remarkably willing to forgive him – if only so she could get some sleep.

Thinking back on the last week of his life (month of Sarah's) Jareth vividly remembered the moment that things went pear-shaped. Correction, went straight to hell on the express boat along the River Stix, with Puck at the helm.

– _Fucking, fucking, fuckityfuckityPUCK! _

Since the goblins were expected to be in the bog for another day at least before finding their way back to the castle, Jareth had let down the guard spells that surrounded his suite of chambers. That was his second mistake - he first was believing that Puck could keep a secret.

The bastard Puck had caught him with his pants down – literally. It had been after his and Sarah's fourth and final attempt at sampling the cake (the first three attempts being aborted in favor of other pleasures, that did not involve food, although there was much tasting and dancing of tongues). Jareth was in the process of leading Sarah to the bath in order to wash off the remaining cake (which really wasn't very much as he had been nothing if not thorough when attempting to remove it with his tongue), and if he was honest with himself, to finally see her naked form wrapped around his in the large copper clawed tub, an image that had featured prominently in his dreams since he first had her in his chambers on her 16th birthday** – that was when Puck arrived, with all of the grace of a satyr in heat.

Puck materialized on the balcony as Jareth and Sarah crossed the middle of the chamber toward the bathroom, naked. Not expecting any visitors, much less those that would barge in unannounced, when Sarah saw the brown, fuzzy faun appear on the balcony, she was, understandably, shocked. Okay, that is something of an understatement. Rather, she gave a shriek that would have made a banshee wince, and launched herself at the heavy velvet curtains that edged the balcony doors, wrapping herself in them so that only her eyes and toes showed.

"What the bloody hell?" roared Jareth, glaring at the hobgoblin as he nearly fell off the balcony in his haste to enter Jareth's bed chamber.

"They come!" yelped Puck, his eyes wide and his voice urgent. "Lose the mortal."

Frowning, Jareth eyed the faun darkly, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Puck, what have you done?" he snarled, his voice so icy, the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees as soon as he spoke.

"No time! I flee…and so should you if you know what is good for you young Princeling!" gasped Puck, before disappearing in a flash of gold, the only thing remaining of his message being small tufts of brownish fur that drifted to the flagstones of the balcony.

He turned to Sarah, who was starting to untangle herself from the curtains, her emerald eyes staring at him in confusion.

"Who…" she began, her voice shaking as she tried to understand what had just happened.

"No time, Precious," he sighed, shaking his head and cursing darkly at Puck. "Forgive me love, but you must go home, _now_."

With that, Jareth conjured a crystal and tossed it at her, unceremoniously popping her back to her apartment, in time for her Sunday evening dinner with her family. He knew she would be furious, but if what Puck said was true, there had been no time to explain. In the end, he was glad he trusted Puck on _that_ at least, because moments after Puck vanished and Sarah had been sent home, a great bald eagle and a tawny hawk landed on the railing of the balcony. The birds blinked silently at him, before transforming.

Within moments, High King Auberon and High Queen Tatiana stood before him. His father lounging casually against the balustrade of the balcony, resplendent in shades of green, his white beard, fluttering gently in the morning breeze, while his pale blue eyes were fixed sternly on his youngest son. The Queen, looked at Jareth, her violet eyes taking in the sight of his still naked form, her thin lips turned up in amusement.

"Seems we have caught the boy at an inopportune moment, Auberon," she smiled, raising an eyebrow at Jareth, as if daring him to deny it. She moved closer to Jareth, the pale blue satin of her dress rustling softly with each step, swirling gracefully around her legs as she stopped.

Ignoring Tatiana's comment, Jareth flicked his wrist and was swathed in a rich burgundy robe, never taking his eyes from his father.

"Hmmm…so much your like your father," purred Tatiana, flicking her tongue over pale pink lips, "Both in…._attributes_ and ….tastes."

"Down woman," barked the High King, turning to glare at his wife. "Is it not bad enough that I must deal with _his_ misdeeds, must I also deal with you practically propositioning the boy right in front of _your_ husband and _his_ father? Honestly woman…" he grumbled.

"_You_ married her, Father," Jareth drawled, his pale eyes glaring at his father.

"Aye….I had to. She trapped me after screwing me senseless. She is tireless in bed….but that is beside the point and none of your business, so I'll thank you not to try to change the subject, boy!" growled the High King, as he moved from the balcony into the room.

Watching his father stalk into his bedchamber, Jareth sighed and ran a hand through his hair, fluffing up the sleep matted feathery wisps. With a flourish of his hand, a coffee pot and pastries appeared on the table by the fireplace. He turned to pour himself a large mug, and took a deep sip, before settling into the chair opposite that which his father now occupied.

"So…shall we dispense with the usual pleasantries, Father, and you tell me what would bring the High King and Queen to my humble kingdom without warning or the common courtesy of an invitation?" Jareth asked, his voice a study in quiet fury.

Like any child, he detested parental visits, particularly when they were unannounced and the fact that they had interrupted what was promising to be a very lazy morning with Sarah, only further angered him.

"You know damn well why we are here, boy. I'm sure that traitorous faun has filled you in. And when I find him, he'll wish he'd stayed at court as instructed," snapped the High King, plucking up a pastry with elegant fingers and waving it as he talked, before biting into it.

"Puck was in such a hurry, he failed to say why you were visiting," Jareth gave a wry smile, "And Puck better hope that you find him before I do."

Brushing crumbs from his great beard, Auberon looked at his youngest son and shook his head. "Puck wasn't the one who told us what you were up to, so you keep your vengeful thoughts to yourself. Another Fae happened upon the event you were at and imagine their surprise to see a child of the High King being _auctioned_ off to mortals!"

"I wasn't actually auctioned off," came the cold reply, as Jareth peered into the depths of his mug of coffee.

_- Is it possible to drown in a mug of coffee? That might be preferable to what is surely coming next._ – inquired his inner voice.

Jareth grimaced in response. _If only it were that easy._

"Dragged off stage by a mortal girl, is what the one reporting the incident said," cooed Tatiana, a snide smile teasing her lips as she moved to lounge on Jareth's bed, smiling wickedly at him when she noted that the bed was still warm.

"Actually," intoned Auberon, his voice deep and rumbling with amusement, "the part about the mortal girl is not the problem. In fact, from the way she was described and her actions, I rather think I'd like to make her acquaintance, she seems the sort of challenge I'd enjoy."

Tatiana merely rolled her eyes at her husband, completely nonplussed by the idea of him going after yet another mortal conquest, since he always returned to her bed anyway – once her latest lover was worn out and no more use to her.

"Hands and all other appendages _off_, Father. She is marked," snarled Jareth, his eyes darkening with possessive rage at the idea of his father pursuing Sarah in any way, shape or form.

"Aye, that is what the one making the report said. And judging by the way the girl was carrying on about you, and your response, it is safe to say that you have claimed her," retorted the High King wistfully, around a mouthful of pastry.

Jareth nodded, warily watching the High King.

"Well get her out of your system now, boy. Your time is nearly up and the deadline looms. You have eight days until the ball and your announcement must be made by then," the High King rumbled. "Have you found a bride yet?"

"No."

"Consort?" the King asked hopefully.

"No."

"Damn it boy! Courtesan? Paramour? I care not really, but you must show the possibility of an heir before the end of the ball! You know the rules," muttered the High King in frustration, his pale eyes flashing impatiently.

Shrugging, Jareth shook his head. He wasn't prepared to tell his father his intentions toward Sarah until he had spoken to her. He wanted her for his Queen. He had hinted about it over the years, usually while they were flirting and teasing each other shamelessly. But, considering how she'd reacted the first time he made such an offer – he had grave doubts about her taking his hints and comments seriously.

_- Offer? 'Fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave'? Honestly! Did you expect a 14 year old mortal to interpret that as 'Marry me and be my Queen'?_ – snarked his inner self.

_Do shut up._

"That tears it," grumbled the High King, pausing to brush the last of the pastry crumbs from his beard and chest before standing and holding out a hand to his wife. "You're coming with us to court and you _will _make a decision this week or I will be forced to make it for you."

Jareth put down his coffee mug and glared at his father.

"I am sorry Father, but I do have a kingdom to run and therefore must remain here this week," he drawled, his eyes snapping darkly at his father.

The High King pulled his wife close, wrapping an arm around her as he stepped menacingly toward where Jareth was seated. Despite knowing the power Auberon could unleash when pushed too far, Jareth didn't flinch when he saw the fierce look in the usually jovial eyes of the High King.

"_That_…was _not_ a request, boy!"

In a flash they were gone and Jareth found himself standing in his childhood suite at the castle of the High King.

"Damn you, Father!" Jareth bellowed, his face red and flushed with rage.

"You'll thank me when you have an heir," laughed the disembodied voice of his father.

He was stuck, held captive at his father's court for a week. A week he would have rather been spending with Sarah. A week spent being introduced to, chatted up by, and at times blatantly propositioned by every eligible Fae, Elven and even Dwarven woman in the Underground kingdoms – and a few married as well, which was another problem entirely.

_Damn that blasted faun and his allegiance to the crown!_

According to Underground cannon, unwed kings had 300 years on the throne during which they had to make arrangements for an heir. When Sarah had wished Toby away, Jareth had every intention of making Toby his heir, but Sarah ruined that – _thank the Gods_ – when she won her brother back. On her 16th birthday, Jareth had made the decision to court her, but being so young, she didn't understand that his reappearance in her life and visits were just that – courting her for marriage. Grooming her to be his Queen.

Sarah's failure to understand what he was doing didn't pose a problem for Jareth. Actually, if he was honest with himself, it was probably better that she didn't fully understand the implications of his presence in her life, because that allowed her to consider him a friend first. Over the years, he knew she would grow to love him. By her 18th birthday, she did, and he knew that she would eventually be his, but he was content to bide his time until she was ready. Unfortunately, it seemed the High Council was overruling cannon in this case and willing to force his hand earlier than the cannon dictated deadline. He had to hope that Sarah was ready for what he must ask of her.

Unfortunately, while the citizens of the Goblin Kingdom adored Sarah to a person, others in the Underground were not as accepting of humans, much less the idea of a human on an Underground throne.

"I will have no other," Jareth shouted over the din in the appeals room of the High Court Council, on the Friday of his High King imposed, week at court. He had been pacing the courtroom for the last three hours, arguing with the council members about Sarah and his desire to make her Queen.

"She is a mortal," sniped Duchess Alissandra, her amber eyes glowering at Jareth. "Her feelings are of no consequence. You must choose another, King Jareth."

"Never!" he snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously at the Duchess. "No where in cannon law does it say that an heir of the High King must marry one of the Underground races."

Several of the council members nodded in agreement. While they were not in favor of a royal family member marrying a mortal, as they would rather he consider their own daughters, they could not argue with his interpretation of cannon law.

"Well cannon law _does_ dictate that as an heir of the High King and King in your own right, you must marry a member of royalty or nobility. Is this girl of royal birth?" sneered Lord Llewyllen.

Shaking his head, Jareth looked at his father, his mismatched eyes pleading with him. If anyone would understand the attraction of a mortal love, it would be his father. But the High King merely looked sadly at his son, then turned his attention back to the council members.

"There has never been a mortal on any Underground throne," nodded Vicount Roan, "She would not be accepted by the High Court or courtiers."

"That is merely racist political nonsense," retorted Jareth, dismissing the comment with a wave of his hand.

"Keep her as a paramour, by all means, King Jareth," purred Lady Tegwyn, her voice lilting with sultry intent, "But you must consider only those of royal or noble stature for Queen, Consort or Concubine."

Jareth glared at Lady Tegwyn, remembering her attempts to weasel her way into his bed and when he turned her down flat, she had sent her daughter to try for the Goblin Queen's throne.

"No. I love her and will not have her humiliated as merely a paramour."

Lady Alissandra laughed haughtily, her lips curled in an unattractive sneer as she looked at him.

"Love? What has love got to do with royal marriages? Love is for the weak, King Jareth. Has this girl so besotted you that you have forgotten the primary function of royal marriages is to secure the line for future generations and create power, wealth or magical alliances. Is it not enough that no mortal has ever sat on an Underground throne, but this mortal can offer neither power, wealth or magical alliances for the Goblin Kingdom," she sneered.

The doors to the council chamber were flung open as a small fox entered, his bushy tail waving behind him like a flag as he trotted purposefully toward Jareth, his arms burdened with a sheaf of parchment scrolls.

Standing, the High King glared at the little fox as he hurried toward the front of the room where Jareth now sat, his head in his hands in frustration.

"Sir Knight," rumbled the High King, "This is a closed session of the council. You are not welcome here."

Jareth looked up, his face brightening hopefully upon seeing the small fox.

"He is with me, Your Majesty," Jareth murmured, hoping against hope that Sir Didymus brought good news. "He was on an important errand for me. If the council would give me a moment to confer with my subject, I believe we can wrap this matter up expediently."

The High King nodded in Jareth's direction, before retaking his seat, lounging upon his throne with a leg tossed carelessly over one arm, while his arms were draped over the opposite side of the throne.

Jareth knelt down on one knee, putting himself at eye-level with his faithful fox knight, his voice low, "Please tell me you found something, Didymus – anything that could help us."

"Yes, Your Majesty. I think we have it. Hoggle and I were up the last two days pouring over the books in the library and we finally found it in the unbound histories of the kingdom," Sir Didymus said, his furry face smiling at the King as he held out the parchment scrolls.

Taking the scrolls, Jareth flipped rapidly through them, then stopped suddenly, his eyes wide as he read the text and looked at the image on the parchment – it was his Sarah, or at least looked remarkably like her. Jareth looked from the scroll to Didymus and back again.

"Amazing…." he breathed in surprise.

"Yes, Sire. We couldn't believe it ourselves, but there it was, plain as the nose on my face, in the historical scrolls," replied Didymus, reverent awe evident in his voice.

Rising, Jareth swept toward the bank of chairs the council members sat upon, his pale eyes sharp and bright as he unfurled the scroll in front of them.

"I am afraid, that the honorable council members are mistaken on several points, some of which have just come to light thanks to the work of my loyal knight here," he said, gesturing to Sir Didymus, who blushed under his fur at the compliment from his King. "Firstly, there_ has_ been a mortal on an Underground throne, and not just any throne, but the Goblin Kingdom throne. Queen Saraphina was the second ruler of the kingdom, following King Jareth I upon his death. Secondly, my Sarah is indeed a member of Underground nobility, as she has defeated the Labyrinth. Not only is she considered by cannon law to be the Champion of the Labyrinth, but by Goblin Kingdom cannon, she is also the Lady of the Labyrinth, and therefore equal in noble rank to any other Lady in the Underground."

Looking down the line of council members, Jareth smiled widely, his eyes feral in their intensity, as if daring them to deny his intentions any further, given that cannon law was on his side now.

"As such, I declare my intent to seek the Lady of the Labyrinth, Sarah Williams of the Aboveground, as my Queen."

The High King chuckled softly, and smiled. While he preferred mortal women for paramours and the odd dalliance, if his son was intent upon marrying this mortal and taking her to wife, then she must be no ordinary human.

"As High King, I give my consent for you to pursue this match. You must formally declare her status at the ball, otherwise the council will arrange your marriage to a suitable Fae female. What say you, King Jareth, Lord of the Labyrinth?"

"Agreed, Your Majesty," drawled Jareth, bowing formally to his father, a mischevious smirk lighting up his angular features.

As it turned out, getting the council to agree to let him seek Sarah's hand was the easy part – now he just had to figure out how to get Sarah to agree to it.


	3. The Love Shack Accord

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own it (sadly). Don't make any money off it (even more sadly). I only borrow Jareth on occasion in my dreams (wistful sigh…but don't tell my hubby!).

**Warning:** Mature content…. Some lemon fluff. No goblins were harmed in the writing of this chapter, although several bags of pretzel and almond M&M's were sacrificed to the author, who narrowly escaped an extended engagement in an oubliette when she made the mistake of sharing said M&M's with the goblins. A word to the wise, HisNibs does NOT take kindly to 'choco-fying' his goblins then sending them back home. I pray you learn from my mistake on this one! To atone for my M&M mistake, HisNibs demanded lemony goodness….so here it is. :)

**Author's Note:** PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews help me find the inspiration to keep going (along with M&Ms and Ben & Jerry's 'Chubby Hubby').

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><p>Sarah didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to move and she most certainly did <em>not<em> want to leave the Goblin King's bed.

Although she had been furious with him when he showed up at the club last night, by the time they had left and he had transported them to his chambers in the castle, her anger had dissipated to a faint grumble. She still couldn't believe that after all the years he had been popping in and out of her life, as well as all her visits to the Goblin Kingdom, she never realized that there was such a significant time difference.

- _Time difference be damned. You know full well the only reason you forgave him is that he was busy begging your forgiveness by screwing you senseless_ – insisted her libido. _You gotta like a guy who can defy gravity. Wow._

A sly smile crept across her cranberry colored lips. For once, she and her libido were in agreement on something. Yes, Jareth had indeed screwed her senseless, forcing her body to reach new heights of delicious sensation, until she had actually _begged _him to stop as she could take no more - something she thought would _never_ happen.

- _Clearly, Hell is now an ice-rink. _– quipped her libido happily, emerald eyes hooded with the look of one who was thoroughly sated. – _Do we own ice-skates?_

While she understood why he had not been in contact and had forgiven him, she was still not happy about the fact that he didn't think to try to get a message to her, High King, High Council or not. All she had needed was to know that he did in fact care and was not just using her. The thought that he had gotten what he had wanted from her and was now gone from her life hurt terribly and led to many late night date with her favorite broken hearted friends, namely Ben & Jerry, not to mention the weekends she spent drinking herself into a stupor. If it hadn't been for Gina and Alyse staying with her on the weekends, she would probably have had more than one fling in and effort to forget him. As it was, every weekend she was propositioned by at least one guy at the clubs, but turned them all down. None even came close to meeting her standards now.

- _Damn him! He has spoiled us for any mere male._ – sighed her inner self.

'Yes, he has. Is that a problem?'

_- Nope, but there is only one thing for it then…. _– added her libido in a sultry purr.

'What?'

_- You've got to find a way keep him…permanently._

'I can't leave my life Aboveground.'

_- Who says you have too. He can come and go, I bet he'd have the power to allow you to do that too. – _suggested her inner-self.

'What if he doesn't want me?' she sighed, feeling a twinge of pain flicker through her chest at the mere thought.

_- Hello? Weren't you paying attention last night while he was doing his damnedest to do you in the hallway? _– snapped her inner-voice – _He said he wasn't grooming you as some plaything, but to be queen._

'He said what?' Sarah wondered, trying to figure out how she had missed that.

- _Don't look at me, I was otherwise occupied with the feeling of his thigh wedged between your legs. – _shrugged her libido_ – And I suspect that is why you missed that particular part of the conversation, if you can call what happened a conversation._

'So how do you suggest I go about ensuring that I can be with him forever? Ask him to marry me? He'd never marry a mere mortal girl. He's ageless. He wouldn't want some mortal that is far too young.'

_- He wanted you once before, or have you forgotten that?_

'No he didn't. That was just a trick to make me forget about Toby, to let my time run out,' Sarah insisted silently.

Over the years since Jareth had re-entered her life, she had often wanted to ask him about that, but didn't want to reopen that wound for either of them. It was one of the only topics that without being overt about it, they had mutually agreed never to talk about.

- _Yeah…and 'de Nile' is a river in Egypt._ _You are either stupid or stubborn._ – grumbled her inner-self. – _He offered you everything, just to stay with him. _

Sarah frowned inwardly. She longed to believe that he had indeed wanted her to stay with him, but was afraid to ask for fear she would find out it was just a Fae trick. She wasn't sure she could stand knowing that.

'I'm not sure I would be happy just to be his…mistress? Bed-buddy? Whatever. I still have some dreams left, even where Jareth is concerned,' she thought wistfully.

And oh yes, she did have dreams where he was concerned, dreams that left her libido shaking in an exhausted, quivering heap. Dreams that left her inner-voice singing happily. Dreams of being with him forever.

- _Does the King even plan to take a wife? _– questioned her inner-self.

_- Does it matter?_ – snarked her libido – _Wife, mistress, love slave. The title matters not a jot in the long run._

'Maybe not to you, but it matters to me and I will settle for nothing less than wife.'

_How about Queen_ – asked her inner-voice, with a mischevious smirk.

'Queen…." Sarah mused, "Queen is good," she thought, a faint smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she lay with her head upon Jareth's chest, letting the debate with herself play out.

With a long sigh, she dug the nails of her left hand lightly into his chest and raked her hand quickly downward toward his hip, purring as he hissed and jumped at the shock of the harsh graze. Looking down at her, he raised a questioning eyebrow, laughing as she arched her eyes back at him, a sly smile flickering into her warm emerald eyes.

"Yes, Pet," he asked quietly, his voice hinting at luscious hours of mutual pleasure. "Did you need something?"

Sarah licked her lips, the tip of her velvet tongue lightly caressing her still bruised lips as she looked at him, the list of things she wanted from him growing with each passing moment.

"Hmm… that depends on whether I am still mad at you or not," she drawled silkily, pushing herself upward upon the bed until she was kneeling next to him, her green eyes flashing brightly in the morning light that streamed into the room from the balcony. With a smooth twist of her hips, she slid over him, straddling his hips with the silken sheet between them. Watching him, watching her, Sarah wriggled her hips while pressing down against him tightly, the feeling of him beneath her making her shiver, a pulse of desire throbbing down her spine to wrap into a tight coil between her legs.

A low chuckle erupted from his thin lips as she moved against him, the heat of her body caressing him through the thin sheet, as her need spoke to his own. Jareth reached around her, lightly trailing his fingers up her back, the electric sensations of his hands making her arch backward, a sensual stretch of feline grace, tempered by the blatant lust sparkling in her eyes.

"Hmmm….whatever happened to 'Jareth, I'm begging you to stop. I can't take anymore,'" he teased, his hands gliding over her shoulders to flutter over the taut nipples that pressed toward him as she arched backward.

"Well, if you'd rather not," Sarah replied flippantly, her emerald eyes issuing the challenge as she rolled off his body, to rise from the bed.

Without a word, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist to tug her bodily back onto the bed, so that her back arched over his hips, her flushed face looking up at him. Sitting up with her draped across his lap, Jareth leaned over her, his look dark with sensual intent as his lips captured hers, gently at first, dancing over her mouth, before deepening, the pressure forcing her lips to part as his tongue thrust against hers, eliciting a moan from her. Lazily he ravished her mouth, his scent assaulting her, cinnamon, amber and pine, with hints of citrus wound their way into her senses, her body responding to his demanding kiss as well as the scent she had come to know as – Jareth. A scent that made her belly throb and sex tremble whenever she smelled it. Sex incarnate in a smell. And it was his.

Sarah kissed him back like a drowning woman, her body thrumming with the magical energy that infused her every time he kissed her or touched her. For years she had known that his gloves served to limit the amount of magical 'run-off' that he imparted to others, particularly when he was Aboveground. The first time he had touched her fully without gloves, his hands had felt like lava rocks, enflaming her senses, and that was just a simple touch of her hand to heal a cut. Whenever lust was added to the mix, his touch became as thermite to her, making her body respond without thought, the flames of desire threatening to consume her whole.

Rolling out of Jareth's lap, Sarah fought to regain her breath, the tell-tale flush of her face and chest betraying her desire to continue, while her rational mind demanded that she stop.

"Don't tell me you've had enough again already," Jareth purred, as he sat up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist to nuzzle the side of her neck, his tongue reaching out to flick along the soft skin behind her ear.

Sarah physically clenched her fists, resisting the urge to throw him back on the bed and have her wicked way with him, yet again, his nearness being all it took to make her want him these days.

"I can't. It's not that I don't want to. But I can't," she sighed, having a vague sense of déjà vu harking back to their first meeting. "I need to get back home, there are things that I must do this weekend."

Kissing along the side of her neck, Jareth murmered softly, "Precious, you know I will return you to whatever time you wish."

"That isn't the point, Jareth," she grumbled petulantly. "I know you _can_ do that, but it uses too much energy to reorder much time. It would be better if we didn't do that as much anymore. As is, I'm mad at you for the fact that you have been doing significant time manipulation for years, whenever I'd come visit the Underground for several days at a time," she said crossly, her jade eyes concerned pools as she frowned at him. "It isn't right to fiddle with time in that way, even if you can. I've been thinking, four days Aboveground is roughly one Underground. I've only been here around 10 hours, so you won't have to reorder much time to take me home."

Jareth sighed. He loved the fact that she was sensible – usually. This was not one of those times. She was right of course. Reordering extensive amounts of time was wearing on his magical energy and always required that he rest, but for her he would reorder years, move the very stars, and more. All she had to do was ask.

On the other hand, her objection to his reordering time could play into his favor in getting her to agree to become Queen. He knew from their many late night chats, particularly when she had been recovering from bad dates and even worse boyfriends (a rather sore point for him at the best of times) that she did not want to be married so young, she wanted to finish school and work a bit first. While his father and others would disagree, Jareth fully believed encouraging her to finish her degree and working for a period, would only benefit her as a ruler.

"Well then, my love, it seems that you and I will be spending our weekend looking for new accommodation Aboveground," Jareth said as he rose from the bed, tugging his heavy brocade robe around him as he moved.

Seeing her look of confusion, he winked at her, a mischevious smirk teasing his lips as his eyes lit up.

"In order to address your objection, I will just have to spend more time Aboveground with you, rather than bringing you here. That said Precious, I draw the line at sleeping in that tiny, horribly uncomfortable bed you have and your apartment is far too small for he two of us, _and_ your goblins. Therefore, we must find more appropriate accommodation. And besides, don't you think it is high time Bob and Squint were promoted to space in a proper walk-in wardrobe instead of that tiny closet you currently have?"

Sarah watched him pace the room, a finger to his lips in thoughtful consideration, her face masked in shock – Jareth, the Goblin King, once her villain and now her lover/boyfriend (if one could call an ageless being a 'boy'friend), the Fae who had been popping in and out of her life since just weeks before she turned 16, was effectively suggesting they move in together. Did one actually 'shack up' with the Goblin King? She started to giggle, then she lost it and began to laugh.

Frowning, Jareth turned to see Sarah sprawling naked on his bed, laughing. At him. A momentary twinge of pain filled his heart at the sound of her laughter. Did it mean that she did not want to be with him? Carefully he schooled his expression to hide the potential anguish he felt, his eyes narrowing as he glared coldly at her.

"And just _what_ is so blasted funny, Pet?"he snapped, his icy voice dropping the temperature in the room, until Sarah shivered despite herself.

Gasping for breath, Sarah sat up, trying to look contrite, and failing miserably, as tears crept from the corners of her eyes.

"I'm s-so-sorry, Jareth. Honestly, I am. It is just…well… you are effectively suggesting that we move-in together, and that is just something I never expected you to suggest, much less agree to," she smiled at him, her face still flushed with her laughing fit. "It isn't that I don't like the idea, I really do. I love it in fact. You just surprised me, is all."

Standing up, Sarah moved to him, her arms sliding between the robe and his skin, to encircle his chest, her own body pressing against the length of his.

"I'd love to have you with me more often. But house-hunting will have to wait until later this weekend. I have a very important party to attend. Namely Toby's seventh birthday," she purred, punctuating her sentences by lightly kissing his bare chest. "I know Toby would be delighted if you would come to his party. And Karen would be thrilled to see that you are still in my life, as she asks if we are still 'dating' each time she calls."

Jareth relaxed, releasing the breath he had been holding since she started laughing, as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Hmm…dating?" he murmured in her ear as his sharp teeth tugged on her earlobe, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips. "Is that what we have been doing? I though it was fucking?"

With a sultry growl, Sarah raked her nails against his chest once more, jade orbs flashing at him, "That is only a recent aspect of what we've been doing," she snapped. "Oddly enough, despite how we originally met and your villainous behavior at that time, what we have been doing for the past year would indeed be considered 'dating' in the Aboveground. What would it be called Underground?"

"Courting, Dearest," he replied with a sly smile, his voice a velvet caress as the meaning of his statement wound its way into her heart and mind.

- _WOOT!_ – yelped her libio.

- _Told you so_ – nodded her inner-self in smug satisfaction.

Jareth tenderly kissed her forehead, then leaning back, looked down into her soft eyes.

"Then it is settled. We'll go to your brother's party and then spend the rest of the weekend finding a new place for you to live. Maybe a nice loft near the university? Or a larger house outside of town?" he mused thoughtfully.

Tickling him lightly, she smiled, "First things first, Kingy…Toby's birthday party. It is a themed party, so you'll have to dress the part."

Jareth groaned, cringing at the thought of having to dress up in a silly costume. While he relished time spent with Sarah and Toby, he had absolutely no patience for dressing up merely for a child's birthday party.

"Oh, don't look so put out, Jareth. For once, your natural style will work Aboveground," she chuckled, her eyes twinkling merrily as she surveyed him. Nodding, she continued, "Yes, I think you should wear your Goblin King regalia….and don't forget the cape and glitter."

Raising a sculpted eyebrow he peered at her, a sardonic smirk lifting his mouth as he drawled, "And just what is the theme for dear Tobias' birthday this year?"

"Well, Toby originally wanted something to do with goblins, but Karen put her foot down on that one. So I talked her into something dealing with knights and princesses."

Jareth's rich laugh echoed around the stone walls of his bedchamber as he pulled her tighter to him.

"And I suppose you will be a princess, Pet?"

"Nope…you'll just have to come to the party and find out."


	4. Enter the Evil Queen

**DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing…not Jareth, Sarah or the Labyrinth (mores the pity!). I would gladly snog Jareth senseless if given even half a chance.

**Warning:** Some mature content that might warp the minds of impressionable young goblins.

**Author's Notes:** Please read and review…I live for reviews! They make me want to write more and faster. Comments regarding review are at the bottom of the chapter.

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><p>In short order, Jareth had transported Sarah back to her apartment to get ready for the party, while he took care of kingdom business before joining her. As he strode into his study to meet Sir Didymus who was acting as his personal assistant, Jareth pondered this turn of events. Sarah seemed surprised, but accepting of his suggestion regarding better housing arrangements, which bode well for what he needed of her. He knew deep down she would be a wonderful Queen, something which didn't officially need to happen anytime soon, so long as she agreed to publicly announce their betrothal by the deadline.<p>

After arranging for Didymus and Hoggle to take over the day-to-day duties of the kingdom for the next day or so that he could spend a week or more Aboveground, Jareth headed to the address Sarah had given him – the Knight and Castle Inn, a bed and breakfast in the White Mountains, which was now teeming with pre-pubescents dressed in various rag tag compilations of armor, dresses and crowns.

Parking the little green convertible Jaguar, his preferred transportation Aboveground, Jareth followed Sarah's directions and made his way to the back of the inn, the leather cloak of his regalia flowing effortlessly with his long stride. The inn itself was fashioned as a small stone castle, complete with parapets and stained glass windows, but it was the acreage in back that made him smile. Although Karen had insisted that goblins were not to be a part of the festivities, Sarah had done her best to help Toby have the birthday he wanted.

The land at the back of the inn was taken up by an elaborate, man-made labyrinth that spanned at least an acre. Running around the stone walls were dozens of children. Boys swinging wooden swords ran by, followed closely by a pack of children wearing elaborate goblin masks. In another area, a group of young girls were twirling about in long dresses and crowns. Watching the children play, Jareth was inundated by visions of his own childhood, playing with his younger sister, only for them it wasn't a fantasy but their reality.

Smiling broadly, he made his way toward Sarah's step-mother, who was attempting to organize what appeared to be a game involved foam swords and a wobbly rope bridge.

"Jeremy! I'm so glad you made it," she beamed, waving at him. "Sarah said you were in town again and were coming along today." Standing back she looked at him, shaking her head in awe, "Your costume is fantastic."

"Hey Jer!" shouted Gina as she and Alyse bounded up to him. "Love the costume. Damn! Sarah said it would blow our minds, but I never thought it would be quite this full on," she enthused, walking a slow circle around him, trailing a tentative hand over the leather of the cape. "Seriously, the leather of the cape alone must've set you back a pretty penny."

Jareth chuckled low, raising an eyebrow in a sardonic smirk as he looked at Sarah's friends. Gina was dressed in what appeared to be Sarah's pale grey dress, the one she used to wear when practicing lines in the park. Alyse on the other-hand, was dressed in pale green tights, a green lace top that fluttered as she moved, and was wearing gauzy green wings on her back.

"Hmm…let me guess. A fairytale princess," he laughed looking at Gina, "And a woodland nymph," he guessed looking at Alyse. "Now where is Sarah for the fantasy trifecta?"

As soon as the question was out of his mouth, he heard an ear-splitting shriek, the kind that only comes from a child who is having a great amount of fun. Toby and several of his friends came racing around the stone outer corner of the labyrinth, screaming, when a dark shape flung itself at Toby, deftly picking him up to dangle him upside down. Jareth's breath caught in his throat at the sight of his Sarah, dressed in something that closely resembled the royal regalia of the Goblin Queen.

"Death to the Goblin Queen," shrieked Toby's friends, turning to attack the dark figure with their foam swords.

"That's Evil Queen, you lot! Get it straight," laughed the figure, gripping the squirming Toby by his calves and tickling his ribs. Looking up to see Jareth, she gave Toby one last dig in the ribs, then dumped him unceremoniously on the ground, watching him bounce up in the way only small boys can.

"That was awesome, Sarah. You make a great Goblin Queen!" he yelled.

"Evil Queen," she shouted after him, her slender hand tucking errant strands of hair back into her elaborate upswept hairdo.

"Goblin Queen," Toby insisted, sticking his tongue out at her, "See…there's the Goblin King!" he yelled, pointing at Jareth.

Cocking an eyebrow in interest, Jareth watched Sarah walk toward them, his teeth bared in a wolfish smirk at the sight of her costume. She was wearing a blood red dress that flowed over her body as if it were fluid, the full skirt swirling around her lithe legs with each step, the low neckline of the dress trimmed with small black jewels that sparkled in the sun. Over the bodice of the dress was a heavy leather corset that accentuated her luscious figure. The outfit was completed by a leather cape that attached to her shoulders, the curved standing collar framing her face. With a hungry smile, he noticed that she had mimicked his own eyes, her eyebrows arching sharply upward toward her hair which was set with shimmering red jeweled hairpins.

Holding a leather gloved hand toward her, he purred seductively when she placed her hand in his, before pulling her close to him, "_My Queen_. You do indeed look stunning."

Sarah laughed softly, her emerald eyes hooded as she looked Jareth, allowing him to wrap his arms around her.

"Cheeky wench," he growled in her ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. "Why didn't you tell me about your costume?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," she whispered, her heart racing at his nearness and the feel of his leather armor against her.

Watching the two of them, Karen grinned widely. "It is so cute that you two chose matching costumes," she gushed.

- _If she only knew…. Hi Karen…Dad…this is Jareth, King of the Goblins and my lover. _– laughed her libido.

Sarah and Jareth spent the rest of the afternoon in the labyrinth, merrily chasing some of the children, while helping others find the center. After safely delivering a small boy to the play castle at the center of the labyrinth, Sarah was making her way to the entrance once more, when she felt the telltale shift of air behind her, moments before his arms snaked around her, pulling her flush against his leather clad form. His lips were on her, burrowing against her neck, the heat from his body making her shiver in the crisp, early-fall air.

"Tell me, Precious…why an 'evil' queen?" he demanded, his arms tightening almost painfully around her, as if quelling any intention she may have had to squirm away.

Without even turning to see his face, she could vividly sense the intensely sensual look in his eyes, a look that demanded answers and said that if they were not what he wanted to hear he would rip the right answers from her body in other, more pleasurable ways. A look first recognized shortly after her visit to the Underground for her 16th birthday, right about the time his interaction with her turned from friendly and protective, to teasing and vaguely suggestive It was a look she knew quite well by now, yet it still made her stomach flutter and her heart race.

Turning in his arms, she laid her head against the cool leather of his breastplate, breathing deep the sultry scent that was uniquely his, feeling it dance through her veins until it infused her very cells, letting the rest of the world fade from existence around her.

"You had gone, and I didn't think you were ever coming back. Although I couldn't give him goblins or the Goblin King at his party, the least I could do was offer him an evil queen instead," she replied, her voice hoarse with the desire that always threatened her when in his arms. "Besides, who says the heroine doesn't sometimes want…or need…. something…darker."

A wicked chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled back to look at her, his lips twisted into a mischevious smirk. Dipping his head near once more, he grazed her jaw with his lips, moving to tease the corners of her mouth as he whispered, his tone almost frightening in its seductive power.

"Then why not _be_ the Goblin Queen, my love?"

Shaking her head, Sarah pressed her face against his chest. In the years he had been in her life, she had never outright ignored a question he had asked her. Even when she had loathed giving him answers, something about his tone always coaxed it from her. Yet this question, so simple really, was one she felt she could not answer – not because she didn't want to, but because to give voice to it would make it real somehow.

She whimpered softly, her whole body trembling as his gloved hand lightly caressed her chin, the strong hand lifting her face toward his. Sarah felt the heat of his lips just before they were upon hers, his taste as exotic as his scent. The sweet power of the kiss making her body surrender him, both body and soul. Limply, she hung on to him as if he were the only solid being left in her universe – and at that moment in time, he truly was. As the kiss deepened, she felt the slow whirl of air around her stilling, as if time were stopping, while at the same time, her blood rushed in her ears, an electric buzzing, drowning out everything else.

Lost in the seductive web of his kisses, her inner-self fought for control.

- _My will is as strong….will as strong…so strong…hands…his hands are so strong. _

And lost.

Breaking the kiss, her libido managed to wrest some measure of control, albeit through sheer, bloody-minded cheekiness.

"Because to name myself…" she panted, leaning in to nip sharply at his lower lip.

"…Goblin Queen…" she purred, flicking her tongue along the seam of his lips.

"…would be…." She panted softly, her lips hovering a hairs-breath above his.

"…presumptuous," she breathed, before seeking his lips with hers, surprising herself with the force of passion that drove her, as she put every feeling, emotion, hope and fear into the kiss.

Trailing his lips down her neck, kissing and sucking and biting the tender flesh, he purred against her, "It would not be presumptuous, my precious Sarah, since it is what I have always wanted for you."

Sarah's hands knotted themselves in his hair, pulling his lips back to hers. Her kiss turned fierce, demanding, yet he was more than willing to meet her demands, his lips parting at her whim, tongue taunting hers in a tangle of heated flesh. He felt her body press tighter against his, molding itself to him, while at the same time performing an exquisitely, tantalizing dance of desire against him. Groaning against her soft lips, his gloved hand slid up her back, to embed itself in the hair coiled at the nape of her neck. With a feral growl, he wrenched her lips forcefully from his, needing to see her eyes.

His eyes sought hers, darkening with a desire that bubbled dangerously behind the mismatched orbs, her deep emerald pools reflecting the same darkness, a darkness that spoke of hours spent entangled in a sweat-drenched embrace. The dark desires burning within them, underpinned by something else…the one thing he had been working to foster in her since she was 16, something that grew stronger with each passing year, and which was now, a true force to be reckoned with - one that would allow her to be both kind and terrifying as the Goblin Queen. Flickering beneath the heated lust that their impassioned embrace unleashed, was love, for him, for his kingdom and his subjects.

Sarah moaned at the loss of his lips against hers, her body arching against his in response to his look. Her breath caught in her throat as his eyes pierced her, knowing from the depth of his look that there would be no evading whatever his next question or demand would be, he would draw the answer out of her whether she wanted to or not. She shivered anticipating the question.

"Say your right words, Sarah Dearest," Jareth demanded, his voice low and firm, yet caressing her very soul an a way that made her gasp with inner pleasure, as if his very hands were stroking her intimately.

"I don't know what…" she breathed, her senses flaring as if overloaded by the very nearness and meaning of what he was asking of her.

"Quite simply my love, you have a choice. You can be either courtesan or Queen…but you will always be mine and mine alone," he growled against her neck. "You know my preferences on the matter….make your choice, Precious. Let it be done."

Feeling her tremble, he brought his head closer, gently leaning his forehead against hers, his eyes fluttering shut as he pressed against her.

"Say it…," he whispered, the intensity of his voice electrifying her senses, making her mind race. "I need to hear it, Sarah."

She felt as if the grass below them had faded, she was floating, and there was nothing but Jareth and the air around them, still and silent as if it too was awaiting the answer – an answer to a question she thought would never really be asked, but had dreamed off since her return from the Underground on her first adventure.

"I wish…" she whispered, her voice quiet and calm, despite the electric pulses that seemed to be racing from her belly to her brain, threatening to short-circuit her system entirely.

"I wish….to be Goblin Queen," Sarah murmured, surrendering herself completely to his embrace.

With a low moan, Jareth captured her lips with his, the kiss lighter than before, although seemingly more intense, the sudden heat emanating from him at her wish seeming improbable, or at least impossible that she could be so near him and not combust.

"As you wish, Sarah-mine," he breathed against her, the relief he felt making his heart threaten to take flight from his chest.

Sarah shivered as he traced a gloved finger around her neck, leaving a heated tingling sensation in its wake. Gasping, she felt a gentle weight around her neck. She pulled back from him slightly, her hand sliding up to caress the metal that now encircled her neck. Pulling a crystal from the air, Jareth held it before her as a looking glass. Her slender fingers traced the golden torc that now circled her slender neck closely. Flawless in its beauty, the torc glimmered in the fading fall sunset, hanging from its center was a smaller version of Jareth's amulet – the symbol of the Goblin King. Set in the center of the pendant was a blood-red colored stone that glowed faintly against the gold and creamy ivory of her skin.

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><p><strong> Thanks for all the comments…they help me find the inspiration to keep going. Please keep them coming! :)<strong>

_**ExperimentalMagic:**_ I for one would NOT object to shaking up with the Goblin King. Sadly tho…my hubby would probably have a few things to say on the matter and none of them would be "Sure Kit…go right ahead and have a fling with your fantasy king." *snerk*

_**Kaytori:**_ Yup…she is open to it and yup…nothing is easy with her. While he managed to get her to agree easily enough…that is no promise that things will continue that way.

_**futrCSI1490:**_ Nope…she didn't go as Goblin Queen, but Toby saw right through that (although he doesn't understand it fully).

_**SamiWami:**_ Yeah… lemon fluff just keeps happening with these two, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing.


	5. Lies, Damned Lies & Running Away

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Labyrinth, Jareth or Sarah….all other characters are mine. I make no money from this….I only wish someone would pay me to sit around and daydream all day and then write those daydreams down. That said, I would snog his glittery hotness the Goblin King within an inch of his immortal life if given half a chance.

**WARNING:** This story has mature content…sometimes. This particular chapter will make some readers rather angry with me – hang in there until the next chapter and all will be revealed! :)

No goblins were harmed in the writing of this chapter, except those that HisNibs bogged. Oh yeah, and the one I swatted for stealing M&M's from me.

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><p><em><strong>Lies, Damn Lies and Running Away<strong>_

"We have to do _what_?" Sarah yelled, shoving herself away from Jareth, before flinging herself bodily from the bed and storming across the room. Her ivory skin shimmered in the moonlight streaming through the French doors of the room as she glared at him, emerald eyes snapping viciously.

Only hours ago they had had a lovely dinner with Sarah's family and friends, celebrating Toby's sixth birthday. At dinner, Jareth had pulled out a ring and proposed to Sarah in front of her family – for the second time that day. Luckily for him, she accepted both times, although it seemed that in light of what he had just told her, she might reconsider her decision and that worried him considerably.

Frowning, Jareth watched as she angrily pulled a shirt over her head, before rummaging through the clothes randomly strewn around the room, searching for her jeans. With a sigh, he ran his bare hand through his hair. _Damn it all. How did I manage to lose control of things yet again_, he wondered.

…_and so quickly too_ – interjected his inner-self, being ever so helpful as always.

"Honestly Sarah, I fail to see why you are so put out," he said, attempting to soothe his beloved before she said or did something they would both regret.

"Put out? Jareth I am not just put out, I am horrifically pissed off! You…you…. proposed under false pretenses!" she shouted, pausing only to yank on her jeans. Sarah managed get one leg into her pants, stumbling as she tried to put on the other, and falling onto a chair.

Muttering angrily, Sarah tugged her socks and tennis shoes on, "I should've known that the mighty Goblin King couldn't do anything without some ulterior motive."

"Marry me, Sarah," she snipped, mimicking Jareth, "be my Queen." Sarah grumbled, grabbing her jacket as she rounded on him, glowering darkly as the candlelight of the room cast long shadows on the walls.

"Hah! Some proposal since what you really meant is 'Please say yes, so I can keep my throne and get the High Council off my back, and because we have to announce it at some betrothal ball in 13 days.' You don't really love me, you just want to keep your kingdom!"

"Blast woman!" Jareth cursed, unable to understand why she was so angry, "That isn't true and you bloody well know it!"

"Do I really, Jareth? It seems like every other thing I hear from you lately is a lie of omission or a half-truth. You say you love me, but then you hide things… _important _things, from me! How can I believe anything you say when you keep doing that?"

Sarah ripped the blue sapphire ring from her finger, pausing momentarily as a twinge of pain shot through her heart at the sight of it. Taking a deep breath, she threw the ring at him. The ring glittered through the air before hitting Jareth's chest and landing in his lap. Without another word Sarah wrenched the door to the room open.

"Where are you going, Sarah?" he asked, his voice wretched as he watched her prepare to leave.

"I don't know," she muttered, snatching her purse and car keys from the chair. "And you have no power over me, so no stalking me with those damn crystals of yours," she snapped. "When you are ready to come clean with the whole truth, check with Sir Didymus. If you can convince him of your sincerity, perhaps he'll tell you where I'm at."

Then Sarah slammed the door, storming past the room where her parents were still asleep, as she fled the inn trying to get as far away from Jareth as she could.

She hadn't wanted the car phone, it was clunky and cumbersome, but tonight she was glad her mother had insisted on it being installed in Sarah's car when she moved out of home. Picking up the phone, she dialed her mother's number in London.

_Hi Mom….Yeah…I'm fine. Look, I've decided to take the semester off and wanted to know if you could arrange for me to visit Nana Gunn in Ireland. Terrific. Look, put me on the first flight you can find….. Yeah, I'm okay, I just want to get out of here for a bit…..Great. I'm heading home now and will start packing._

The next morning, Sarah stopped by her father's house to tell them where she was going, a meeting that did not go well. Her father was unable to understand why she was suddenly dropping everything to go to Ireland, after becoming engaged to a young man that Robert thought was perfectly suitable husband material.

_If he only knew the half of _it, Sarah thought bitterly.

Luckily, Karen remembered what it was like to be young and in love. She came to Sarah's aid, supporting her decision, despite the fact that she liked Jeremy and wanted nothing more than to start planning the wedding, instead of helping Sarah pack for Ireland.

Within 24 hours of that meeting, Sarah was tucked into a faded over-stuffed chair next to the fireplace in her grandmother's front parlor, in Antrim County, Ireland. Sarah had a cup of tea in her hands and a Persian cat snoring in her lap and was quietly staring into the fluttering embers of the fireplace. Her grandmother's cottage was old, cluttered and peaceful, just what Sarah needed – a quiet place to think, without Jareth popping in whenever he damn well pleased.

"So tell me killean, what are you running from?" asked her Nana Gunn, her gentle voice soothing Sarah's disquieting thoughts.

When she picked Sarah up from the train station, the girl had been unusually quiet, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Nana Gunn knew a girl in love when she saw one, and her beloved granddaughter was fighting it for some reason.

"I'm guessing it is a matter of the heart. A man?"

Sarah laughed bitterly, sipping the warm tea.

"A man? Sort of …." Sarah sighed, her face creased in a frown as she tried to figure out how to explain what was happening, without telling Nana the whole story.

"Fine then… not a man. One of the Fair Folk. Either way, it is a matter of the heart," Nana Gunn replied matter-of-factly, her pale green eyes dancing knowingly as they looked at Sarah.

Sarah gasped, her eyes wide as she stared at her gran. She had never told anyone about Jareth and no one had certainly ever guessed there was anything different about him. Here her gran had never met him or even heard Sarah talk about him and she knew the truth.

"But…. Nana….How did you know? I've never told anyone before!" Sarah whispered, as if even speaking of Jareth would call him.

Shrugging, her grandmother laughed, "When you have been around as long as I have and heard the tales, it isn't hard to guess. You have been wearing an old iron key on that black ribbon around your neck since you got here. You think I didn't notice it? And you took the sea salt from the kitchen, I found a line of it sprinkled along the windowsill and door crease to your room? You're clearly trying to keep something from coming to you."

Sarah looked at her grandmother in shock. In a rush, she told Nana Gunn the whole story – at that point it was useless trying to deny it. The feeling of relief found in telling the story was amazing. Nana Gunn listened silently, frowning once or twice as Sarah told about how she had wished away Toby as a baby and smiling when she told of the many ways Jareth had entered her life since that day – birthdays (both his and hers), holidays, good times and bad.

"Well killean, you seem to have survived your run-ins with the Fair Folk far better than most. The lore is filled fair to bursting with stories of young'uns who tangled with the Fae and were lost to the world or worse, left longing to return to the land of fairie, without a way to get there. I may just be an old woman not long left for this earth, but sounds to me like this king o' yourn most probably does love you, in as far as the Fair Folk can."

Considering this, Sarah sighed, "Do the Fae truly love, Nana? I mean…can they?"

Nana Gunn sipped her tea quietly, her wrinkled face relaxed as she pondered both the question and her precious grand-daughter. "Killean…you know more than I would about that, as my dealings with the Fair Folk were many years past and far less involved than yours."

Seeing the questioning look on Sarah's face, Nana Gunn smiled, her faded green eyes shining brightly at the memory.

"Aye, killean…I have danced in the arms of the Fair. He was…" she sighed deeply, a wistful look filling the faded eyes at the memory, "…magnificent. I would have stayed, but your mum was just a wee one, and I couldn't stand the thought of leaving her. Oh, he promised me pretty things if I would stay. But, tempting tho he and his words were, they were just that, words. So just like you, I too am Fae-marked."

Sarah nodded as she listened. She had never heard of being fae-marked, but it made sense.

"So what do I do, Nana? How do I know if he loves me or is merely trying to save his throne?" Sarah asked, pressing her face against the sleeping cat's fur as if trying to draw strength from the strong purr that rumbled from its chest.

Chuckling, Nana Gunn prodded the fire, an impish smile playing across her ancient features. "You've got a choice my girl, you can call 'im to you or you can go to 'im, but sooner or later you two 'er gonna have to talk it out. If you leave it like this, 'im losin 'is kingdom and you losin 'im, yer just gonna end up another lass lost to the lore – in love with a Fae king forever, with no way to get back to 'im."

Stretching, Nana Gunn rose from her chair, depositing the elderly cat in her lap onto the seat. "In the meantime killean, you'd best get some sleep. I talked to Mary MacCray yesterday and got you a temporary job up at the pub. You start tomorrow at 11. Maybe talking to some locals for a bit might help you find some perspective before your king's deadline."

Nana Gunn pressed a soft kiss to Sarah's forehead, the smell of lilacs and vanilla wafting from her apron as she shuffled to her room, leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts as the fire died.

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><p>"That's Mr. Rose," said Chelsea, Mary MacCray's middle-aged daughter who ran the pub, as she gestured at a rotund, bald man in a green and brown tweed jacket. "He breeds sheepdogs on a farm near the base of the mountain. Now remember, whenever you serve him, take him a saucer too. He always gives his dog Shannon a bit 'o his drink."<p>

Chelsea handed Sarah a foamy Guiness pint and a saucer, before shooing her toward Mr. Rose.

Her whole afternoon had been like that. Customers would come in and Chelsea would tell Sarah who they were, what they liked and then send her over to them. Sarah was something of a curiosity to them, as she was the first new barmaid the Oak and Stag Pub had seen in nearly thirty years. It hadn't taken long before she was behind the bar, pulling pints like a pro, while bantering merrily with the old farmers that frequented the pub. The farmers for their part, loved having the attention of a pretty young girl, who wasn't afraid to tease and nag them just as Chelsea always did – and Sarah was far prettier than Chelsea had ever been. More than one left the pub that afternoon with a spring in their step, wishing they were thirty years younger.

It was nearing 7pm when a tall, muscular, older man entered. Sarah was returning to the bar with a tray full of empty glasses, when her leg got caught in the leash of his dog, threatening to send both her and the glasses crashing to the floor.

"Whoa, lass," he murmured, his ice blue eyes piercing hers as he steadied her with a firm grasp on her elbow. "I'm sorry about the dog. She is an impulsive young bitch and hasn't yet learned how to handle her lead," he said, his voice rich, deep and melodic, twanging a chord deep inside Sarah's chest with each word.

Tugging gently on the leash, he turned from her and walked toward a booth in the far corner of the pub, away from the noise and raucous laughter of the bar area. For a moment Sarah watched him. For an older gentleman, she found him oddly attractive. He wore his white hair long, pulled back in a sleek ponytail, offset with a neatly trimmed white beard. He was dressed in grey wool trousers, a dark green sweater and a wool blazer. The other men in the pub nodded in greeting to him, but did not offer to socialize.

Chelsea grabbed Sarah and hustled her behind the bar, whispering in hushed tones, "That is Lord Lugh. If he sits at the bar, then he's in the mood to be social, anywhere else, then you'd best just get him his drink and leave him be."

Fighting back a wave of nerves, Sarah gingerly carried a glass of brandy to the elder gentleman, gently placing it before him. She blushed as he fixed her with another piercing look, his blue eyes seeming to look right through her. He seemed familiar, yet she was quite sure she had never met him before.

"And who might you be, young woman?" he asked, his lush baritone voice making Sarah flush further.

"I'm…I'm Sarah Williams, Sir. I've come from the states to visit my gran, Colleen Gunn, in Bridel Cottage over by Slieveanorra Forest," she replied, pleased that her voice sounded stronger than she felt. Knowing he was the manor lord for the area was nerve-wracking enough, but having him staring her down was quite another.

She could have imagined it, but his eyes seemed to get brighter at mention of Nana Gunn.

"Welcome, my dear. I trust you are enjoying your stay?" he enquired quietly, his eyes washing over her as he lifted the glass to his lips.

"Um…so far, Sir. I only arrived yesterday."

"Well, I do hope you'll join us for the Harvest Celebration at Dohmnaill Manor on Saturday. It is open to the entire village and out-lying areas you know. I'm sure your grandmother knows of it," Lord Lugh replied, smiling gently at her.

"That sounds lovely, Sir. I will be sure to mention it to Gran. Perhaps we will be able to make it. Will there be anything else tonight, Sir?"

Shaking his head, Lord Lugh turned to look out the window as the last of the fall sunset faded from the sky.

When she had walked away, he turned back to watch her. Something about her was familiar - too familiar. He couldn't decide if it was the long chestnut waves that fell about her shoulders, or the vibrant emerald eyes that seemed to absorb everything they saw, but something about her chimed in the back of his mind, like a partially forgotten dream.

It was Wednesday night before Lord Lugh returned to the pub. He smiled and nodded to Sarah as she bustled past with a tray of pints for a rowdy table of tourists in the back room. When she breezed back into the main bar area, she was pleasantly surprised to see him perched on a stool at the bar, his wolfhound Nemain asleep at his feet. Without pausing to ask what he wanted, she poured him a glass of Glennfidich, setting it in front of him with a soft smile.

"Are ye goin to the Harvest do over at the manor, lass?" asked Mr. Rose through a mouthful of steak and kidney pie.

Laughing, Sarah shrugged, "Don't know yet, Mr. Rose. I don't know what to expect or anything, so I've got to talk to Gran about it first."

"I've got a son ye'd like. He'd swirl ye 'round the floor some if'n ye want," offered Mr. Sine.

"Bah, Sean! She doesn't want to go with yer son. He reeks of sheep and didn't even get out of the town school. Sarah 'ere needs someone smart…" said Mr. Rawlings.

"Aye…and handsome," added Mr. Quigg.

"C'mon lass…. Tell us about your beau," teased Mr. Rose, taking a long draught from his pint. "Pretty thing like you is bound to have one. Hell, if not ye bloody well should!"

His statement was met with grunts and nods of agreement from the usual crowd of farmers that ringed the bar.

"I'll tell you about him, if you tell me about your wife," Sarah countered, snatching up Mr. MacComhain's glass and refilling it.

"Aye," laughed Mr. Fitzpatrick, his voice thick as he had been drinking pints most of the afternoon, "Tell her 'bout yer ole nag, Daniel."

Cringing, Sarah watched Mr. Rose's face go red at the insult to his wife. She wasn't sure how this got out of hand, but she knew it had the potential to get very bad, very quickly.

"Now gentlemen that is hardly called for. What must Sarah think of Balleymoney men if we insult each other's wives?" asked Lord Lugh, his deep voice cutting through the tension that had risen at Fitzpatrick's insult. "I suggest we sing a song for Miss Williams. How about it boys?" he suggested quietly, the others nodding in agreement.

"The Night O'Malleys Goat Got Loose on the Grand Parade," offered MacComhain.

"O'Rafferty's Motor Car," suggested Fitzpatrick.

"Paddy McGinty's Goat," replied Chelsea with a laugh.

"The Peeler and the Goat," retorted Dunschlibe.

Sarah laughed. The way the farmers of Balleymoney liked to sing about goats, reminded her of the way Jareth's goblins felt about chickens. Chasing away the pang of sadness that edged its way into her heart, she forced herself to laugh, "What is it with all the ballads about goats? I thought the Irish were known for their sheep."

"Aye lass…sheep make us money, goats make us laugh!" chuckled Mr. McCoy, downing the rest of his pint.

Lord Lugh noticed the way Sarah's face momentarily seemed pained, her usually shining green eyes seeming faded and sad.

"No, no, no. It would never do to let Sarah hear some of the more questionable ballads about goats," laughed Lord Lugh, his icy blue eyes sparkling. In the next breath he began to sing.

_Far across yonder blue lies a true fairy land  
>With the sea rippling over the shingle and sand<br>Where the gay honeysuckle is luring the bee  
>And the green glens of Antrim are calling to me<br>Sure if only you knew how the lamp of the moon  
>Turns a blue Irish bay to a silver lagoon<br>You'd imagine the picture of heaven it could be  
>Where the green glens of Antrim are calling to me<br>_

Sarah gasped, her heart racing at the heartfelt tone of his voice as he sang the words. Lord Lugh sang each word, each note, with such feeling it made Sarah's heart ache. The look on his face reminded her of the look on Jareth's face as he sang to her in the crystal ballroom, all those years ago. Sarah's eyes fluttered shut, as she listened to the beautiful melody fill the pub.

_'Tis alone my concern if the grandest surprise  
>Would be shining at me out of somebody's eyes<br>It's my private affair what my feelings would be  
>Where the green glens of Antrim were welcoming me<br>But I'd be where the people are simple and kind  
>And among them there's one who's been aye in my mind<br>Sure I pray that the world would in peace let me be  
>Where the green glens of Antrim are heaven to me<em>

Lord Lugh smiled as the room erupted in applause when he finished the song.

Looking at Sarah, he noticed a single tear rolling down her cheek, her hands clasped around a pendant hanging from a ribbon around her neck. Opening her eyes, she glanced down at the pendant, before tucking it back beneath her sweater, returning to filling glasses and wiping down the bar.

Seeing his empty glass, she moved to refill it, stopping as he placed his hand on hers.

"Tears lass?" he murmured quietly, his eyes tender as he looked at her, "If he means that much to you, why are you here instead of with him?"

Sarah looked at him, her green eyes swimming with more tears as the pain washed over her face. Having been around many women in his years, he knew that one more word would have her in tears.

"Come lass," he said gently, motioning her around the bar. With a nod to Chelsea, he led Sarah toward the empty side room, guiding her into his favorite booth. Nemain followed on her lead, sitting next to Sarah to lay her head on Sarah's knee.

"I… I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice shaking as she tried to control the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Lord Lugh was the last person she wanted to cry in front of. "The song. It was just so beautiful. That's all."

"Aye, The Green Glens of Antrim is beautiful, but that isn't why you cry my dear. No sense trying to lie to one as old as I. I know a heartsick woman when I see her," he replied, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling through Sarah's mind, soothing the ache that had built up inside her.

"I assume you've told your Gran what happened. Would you care for a male viewpoint?" he asked quietly, his blue eyes tender as she looked at her. He still couldn't figure out why her very presence called to him, but it did. The pain she was feeling was palpable, hanging over her like a curtain – one he very much wanted to brush away.

Studying her carefully, Lord Lugh frowned. She smelled of peaches, yet it was early fall, they weren't in season and it couldn't be a perfume, the scent was far too real for that. His eyes moved over her form, glad her eyes were fixed upon her lap, as his own were drawn to her breast – or rather what lay under the sweater. There it was. How he had missed it earlier he didn't know, but now that he saw it, the problem was obvious. The girl had been touched by the land of fairy. She was marked.

"He hurt me, is all," Sarah sighed sadly. "He didn't tell me the truth about something that he should have." Sniffing she continued, "He proposed, then told me he had to declare his engagement soon or…well…there would be family problems if he doesn't. So…I'm trying to forget him."

Patting her hand gently, Lord Lugh smiled at Sarah, "Kind of hard to be forgetting when small things remind you of him, I suspect. Like your pendant."

Sarah gasped, placing her hand over her heart, where the pendant now lay between her skin and her sweater.

"I…I couldn't bear to remove it. Not yet….maybe soon," she whispered, clutching at the pendant as it hid under her sweater.

Nodding sagely, Lord Lugh stroked his beard thoughtfully. "What you need, my dear, is a distraction. I have a son…" he began, before being cut off by Sarah's gasp.

"Oh no, Lord Lugh…um…Sir… no blind dates," she begged, her ivory skin flushing deep pink in embarrassment.

A deep rumble of laughter echoed through the small side room, as Lord Lugh looked at her, his clear blue eyes twinkling merrily.

"Give me more credit lass," he chuckled. "I would be far more subtle if I were trying to set you up with my son. Nay. I propose that you come to the celebration Saturday night and keep him company, as you are two are the youngest people in the village at the moment. He must attend as it is his duty since he will be taking over the manor in a few more years, and you should attend if for no other reason than to get you out of the house for an evening."

Sarah sighed, giving Lord Lugh a small smile as she wiped her eyes. "Okay….I accept. Might as well. The pub will be closed anyway since everyone else will be at the manor."


	6. To Love a Man Who Does Not Love Me

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Labyrinth, Sarah or Jareth….but ohh…what I wouldn't give to own a Jareth of my very own *droooooool*

**WARNING:** Oh hell…there are no warnings for this chapter….tho next chapter *ahem* is likely to be very lemony….like…WHOA seriously lemony.

No goblins, children or small animals were harmed, tho I think I'm ticking off HisNibs quite a bit. He's a bit narky with me because he thinks I'm making him out to be rather inept with the fairer sex. What can I say…the truth hurts!

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> HisNibs says I must withhold the lemony goodness of fanservice unless people review. So do me a favor…read and review so the lemony stuff can appear in the next chapter! Thanks! :)

Also, in this chapter you will see the following: Chicuthe – it is the goblin equivalent of 'fuck'. Just to put it in context when you see it. :)

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><p><em><strong>To Love a Man Who Does Not Love Me<strong>_

A roar echoed from the throne room, sending goblins scurrying for cover in all directions.

"Bob! Squint!" the Goblin King bellowed, storming around the throne room in a fit of rage.

Bob and Squint crept into the room, each trying to push the other toward the throne first.

"Kingy?" squeaked Squint hesitantly, ducking quickly as Jareth swung his boot out to kick the little goblin.

"Don't you 'Kingy' me!" Jareth snapped angrily. "Where is Sarah? I know you know and I order you to tell me!"

Bob shook his head so violently that his colander hat rolled into the pit in the middle of the floor.

"We doan know, Majesty. She ain't been home for days. Not since the party," yelped Bob, ducking yet another kicking attempt of the king.

Jareth threw himself onto the throne, his face a mask of frustration. He had ignored Sarah's order not to watch her with his crystals and had been watching her from the moment that she left the inn. All of that ended a day ago when the crystals started coming up blank. He had called Sir Didymus, Hoggle and Ludo to court and demanded that they tell him where she was, but they either didn't know or weren't willing to tell him – even after threatening to bog them. In the end, he tossed them in separate oubliettes for several hours to see if that would scare them into confessing her location, but they stubbornly maintained that she had not contacted them.

He conjured another crystal and again was met with a haze of green mist where he should see an image of Sarah. Something was blocking her from him. Or someone.

"Blast and damn!" he swore violently, hurling the crystal against the wall where it shattered, the shards fading away to dust in seconds, until it was as if the crystal had never even existed.

Lounging on his throne, he juggled a small stack of crystals, trying to calm down enough to focus on finding her. As long as she had the Goblin Queen's sigil, he should be able to find her anywhere – Above or Below. Yet he couldn't. It was infuriating. He had no way to know if she was safe. Worse yet, he had no way of knowing if she had truly given up on him and was finding solace in the bed of another. The very thought of his Sarah writhing beneath anyone other than him made the rage inside him burn white-hot. Throwing the crystals viciously at Bob and Squint who dove for cover in the pit, Jareth stalked toward the balcony.

He was preparing to take flight, when a small hawk landed on the railing, a scroll of parchment in its beak. Taking the scroll, he waved the hawk away with a growl of frustration. The last thing he needed today was more hassles from his father, unfortunately that was exactly what he now held in his hands.

_Jareth,_

_The annual event is at hand. I have found you a companion for the night since you have yet to secure one of your own. Be there on time at 7pm sharp. NO excuses. Don't make me have to send Puck after you again this year – you know I will._

"Blast! Damn! Chicuthe!" he cursed darkly, while thunder-clouds gathered low over the Goblin City.

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><p>Saturday morning Sarah headed to the pub at 9am to help Chelsea prepare the liquor delivery that would go to the manor house for the celebration that night. She was struggling to carry two full boxes of brandy toward the truck, trying to peek around the corner of the boxes as they were too tall for her to see over. As she rounded the corner of the truck, she hit the fender with her knee and went flying.<p>

"Chicuthe!" she shouted as she fell hard on her knee, dropping the boxes. The sound of breaking glass making her curse again. "Chicuthe! Chicuthe! Chicuthe!"

Wiping her hair out of her face, Sarah brushed off her knees and went to stand. She gasped as she saw a strong hand in front of her face. Looking up she blushed furiously at the sight of Lord Lugh, resplendent in a black wool suit, holding out his hand to help her up.

"Chicuthe,"she muttered again under her breath, blushing further as he raised an eyebrow at her, a bemused smirk on his face.

Placing her hand in his, Lord Lugh helped her stand.

"Hmm…interesting choice of words, my dear. If I didn't know better I'd say you were saying some rather unladylike things, but that is not a language I recognize."

Busying herself with picking up the broken bottles, Sarah shrugged vaguely, "Um…yeah…I picked it up down under," she lied. _Well, it is sort of true_, she reasoned.

The rest of the day flew by. Sarah spent the morning helping Chelsea get last minute deliveries to the manor, then went home to Nana Gunn's to rest and get ready for the celebration. She had just come from the bath and was finishing drying her hair when Nana knocked gently on her door.

"Killean, I have a gift for you," she said, her green eyes shining as she lay a long dress box on Sarah's bed. "I had Mrs. Fitzpatrick make you a clan dress for the celebration tonight. Most others will be flying their family colors and tartans, so it is only right that you wear the colors of the Gunn Clan tonight."

Sarah threw her arms around her grandmother, hugging her tightly. "Thank you Nana. For everything."

Turning to the box, Sarah gently lifted the lid. She folded back the tissue paper and gasped, her fingers lightly caressing the lovely dress inside. Her mother always promised that some day she'd have a chance to wear the plaid, but it took breaking it off with Jareth and running away to Ireland to make it happen. A shame really. She would have rather been on the arm of someone that actually loved her, but at least she had some form of date for tonight – even if he was the Lord of the Manor's son.

_He can't be that great if he is still single at his age, _she thought with a wry smile.

The dress itself was stunning. The skirt was Victorian in style, complete with a ruched bustle across the back. It was made of delicate silk, the purple, blue and grey of the Gunn tartan making Sarah's skin seem to glow. Attached to the skirt was a deep purple corset top. Nana Gunn came in to help her get into the dress, her gnarled fingers deftly tugging at the laces of the corset until it tightly held Sarah's body in it's silken embrace.

When her make-up was finished, Sarah braided part of her hair before twisting it up in plaited loops and pinning it in place with deep purple jeweled hairclips. She added amethyst earrings and a matching necklace to complete the look. Nana Gunn carefully added the long fly plaid, artfully draping it over Sarah's shoulder, before clipping it at her hip with a large brooch, engraved with the clan crest.

"This brooch was mine, and before that it belonged to my mother and your great-great-great-grandmother, killean. And now, it belongs to you," Nana Gunn said, her eyes bright as she saw her beloved grand-daughter dressed and ready to present to the community.

Draping a black wool wrap around her shoulders, Sarah watched Nana Gunn go to the door to look for their cab. Taking advantage of her grandmother's absence, Sarah tucked her pendant into the front of the corset top, sliding it warmly between her breasts along with the iron key. As much as she wanted to forget the pain of Jareth's betrayal of her trust, she couldn't yet bring herself to part with the sigil, yet didn't want him to be able to find her either.

Giving herself one last look in the mirror, Sarah followed her grandmother out of the little cottage to the black cab that was waiting for them at the front gate.

The Dohmnaill estate was massive, with acres of forests, fields and pastures. As they drove up the long driveway, Sarah was enchanted by the lights of the estate house twinkling in the distance. The long drive was lined with small luminaries, white candles sitting in clear glass globes that cast an ethereal glow along the lane. Close to the manse itself, all of the trees were heavily woven with clear fairy lights that seemed to dance as if real fairies were carrying them. As she got out of the cab, Sarah sighed deeply, enjoying the heady scent of fall that floated on the breeze, a rich mix of wood smoke, peat and pine.

"It is gorgeous," she whispered to Nana Gunn, who patted her hand with a smile.

"Just wait killean…the inside of the manor is even better. It has been in the Dohmnaill family for generations."

Looking at the others who were preparing to enter the manse, Sarah paused. "Nana, we are a bit over-dressed, don't you think?"

Laughing, Nana Gunn took Sarah's hand and pulled her toward the entry, "No killean. If you are going to be keeping company with the Lord's son this evening, it is expected that you dress the part. Even if it is just a casual thing. Besides, how often does an old woman like me get to dress like a fine lady of the manor?"

Sarah had to smile. Her grandmother had dressed with great care for tonight's celebration, pulling out a lovely green wool suit with a ball-length skirt. She confided to Sarah that she had not been to any of the manor celebrations since her husband had died, as to go alone seemed too sad.

When they entered the manse, a silent butler took Sarah's wrap before motioning them toward the great hall, where most guests were milling around. The edge of the hall was lined with tables holding a bountiful array of foods – cold meats, carved roasts, vegetables of all types and table upon table of finger foods and sweets. Weaving through the throngs of locals that stood in small groups around the hall, were white coated waiters bearing trays of ale, cider, wine and even champagne.

Sarah and Nana Gunn were on their way into the hall when Lord Lugh caught up with them.

"My dear Miss Williams," he said, taking her hand and kissing it softly, "I am so pleased you could make it, and flying the clan colors I see."

Sarah blushed and curtseyed. Lord Lugh smiled at her response, his crystal blue eyes twinkling.

"And you Colleen," he drawled, addressing Nana Gunn, "It has been far too long since I have had the honor of your presence at a manor function. If I had known it would take Sarah visiting to make it happen, I should have arranged for her to visit long ago."

Looking at her grandmother, Sarah was surprised to see the elderly woman blush, her green eyes brighter and more vibrant than Sarah had ever seen them.

"You old tease," Nana Gunn chuckled, placing her hand lightly on Lord Lugh's arm.

"Regretfully Sarah, my son is shirking his duties and has not yet arrived. But seeing as your beauty outshines any other woman here tonight, it will be easy enough to find you for introductions when he finally makes an appearance," Lord Lugh explained, his baritone voice caressing Sarah's ears, making her shiver.

Sarah tried to listen to what Lord Lugh was saying, but the melodic timbre of his voice mesmerized her. She wasn't attracted to him. Not really. But there was something so compelling about him.

"Did you hear me, Sarah dear? You look like you are miles away," he asked, his ice blue eyes narrowing in concern.

"Oh no, Lord Lugh," Sarah gasped, feeling her face flush hotly, "I'm terribly sorry, I was distracted by the lovely hall."

_Nice cover, girlie. Now let's stop the whole schoolgirl crushing on the manor Lord and get back to mingling and forgetting the glittery jackass._ – chided her inner-self.

"That is perfectly alright my dear. As I was saying my son, Brenin, should be along shortly. In the meantime, please make yourself at home," he nodded toward the great hall, before holding his arm out to Nana Gunn, "Colleen my dear, may I show you the gallery? There are a number of new acquisitions that you would not have seen."

Sarah had to smile as Lord Lugh led her grandmother away. Nana Gunn was smiling more and seemed to have a lighter step than Sarah had ever seen. She would swear that Nana Gunn and Lord Lugh had been an item when they were younger.

She made her way through the crowds in the great hall, getting stopped numerous times by the farmers from the bar so they could introduce her to their wives. More than one wife glared rather hatefully at Sarah, until she made clear that she was not a threat. Several then introduced her to their sons, which Sarah found amusing, as the sons were all wearing tatty corduroy pans and flannel shirts – even their farming fathers dressed more appropriately for a manor function.

Stopping a nearby waiter, Sarah grabbed a glass of champagne, sipping it as she wandered the hall. Hearing music in a nearby room, Sarah gravitated that direction. Several of the regulars from the pub were gathered in the corner where someone was playing a piano and Chelsea was playing a mandolin. The duo were playing Irish ballads, while the crowd around them sang. Leaning against the door, Sarah watched for several songs. As each song finished, someone would shout out a new title, the musicians would play and the person who chose the song would sing.

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><p>"<em>You<em> … are late Brenin," Lord Lugh grumbled as his son strolled through the door to the study. "I told you to be on time. This is the only manor function I expect you to be present for during the year. As the future Lord of the manor, you should be on time."

"Relax Father, I'm here now. Now if you'll excuse me, I will go grab a pint of ale and do the obligatory mingling where I listen to the farmers discuss the merits of sheep, the mating of sheepdogs and the fun that is ballads about goats," Brenin drawled, his voice edged with sarcasm.

Frowning, Lord Lugh glared at his son with piercing eyes, "You most certainly will not! There is a young woman in the village who is visiting an old friend of mine and I expect you to go out there and be a gentleman. Or else."

Sighing deeply, Brenin rolled his eyes, "As you wish, Father. But as soon as the first guest of the evening leaves, so too will I. I have other things I wish to be doing tonight than entertaining the locals."

Brenin slammed the door of the study as he made his way to the great hall. These functions were boring. Every year the locals had the same discussions about the same topics, with the same results. He would much rather be home tonight, but not showing up for his father's function would be far worse than spending a few hours getting drunk and pretending to be interested in animal husbandry.

With enough alcohol on board, at least the farming discussions could be livable, but it was insufferable that his father was forcing him to entertain some young lady. That is the last thing he wanted to be doing this evening.

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><p>"C'mon lass, we've all had a turn. Pick a song and give us a whirl," teased Mr. Cahill, grinning at Sarah.<p>

"Honestly Mr. Cahill, I'm not a good singer and I wouldn't want to torture any of you with my caterwalling," Sarah laughed, her emerald eyes shining bashfully.

"Well, if you won't tell us about your beau, sing us a song about him" suggested Chelsea, a broad grin spreading across her face as she snuggled against her husband's shoulder.

Realizing that she was not going to get out of the music room until she complied, Sarah leaned over the pianist and pointed out her favorite ballad, singing softly as the piano and mandolin played the lilting melody.

_I leaned my back against an oak _

_Thinking it was a trusty tree _

_But first it bent and then it broke _

_So did my love prove false to me _

Sarah tried to keep it together as she sang, but the pain of losing trust in Jareth was too much for her. As she sang, her hand pressed against her breast, feeling the pendant hidden beneath the silk of the corset, she felt as if it was vibrating in tune with the emotion flooding her.

_I reached my finger into some soft bush _

_Thinking the fairest flower to find _

_I pricked my finger to the bone _

_And left the fairest flower behind _

With each word her voice grew stronger. Sarah gave up trying to hide the emotion, letting the raw pain suffuse song.

_Oh love be handsome and love be kind _

_Gay as a jewel when first it is new _

_But love grows old and waxes cold _

_And fades away like the morning dew _

Reaching the great hall, Brenin plucked a pint of ale from a waiter as he made his way into the room. A quick glance at the locals in attendance told him that it was the usual crowd. As he moved further into the room, he heard the gentle voice singing in the music room, clear and lilting upon the evening air. Surely none of the locals could sing like that.

He leaned casually against the open French doors of the music room, watching the girl sing. Her back was to him as she leaned against the piano, her slender neck arched as she poured her heart into the delicate ballad. _She is singing this for someone. The old man is always picking up wounded women and trying to heal them. She must be another with a broken heart, _he thought cynically.

_Must I go bound while you go free _

_Must I love a man who doesn't love me _

_Must I be born with so little art _

_As to love a man who'll break my heart _

As the girl sang, Brenin felt his chest ache at the tender melody that spoke of the betrayal and pain of lost love. Although her back was turned, he was sure that her eyes spoke the same, in fact, he would be willing to bet that she had tears in her eyes as she neared the end of the song. The ache in his chest throbbed dully, refusing to be ignored as he listened to her haunting song.

_When cockle shells turn silver bells _

_Then will my love come back to me _

_When roses bloom in winter's gloom _

_Then will my love return to me_

The last notes of the song were met with loud applause, the crowd moved in on the girl, blocking her from sight as the farmers and their wives pressed upon her. Shrugging, Brenin retreated back to the great hall. The dancing would begin soon, and if his father expected him to dance with the girl, he had better start drinking enough to drown out his own worries first.

Brenin was standing on the outer veranda polishing off his third pint when he heard his father clearing his throat behind him.

"I told you I wouldn't leave until the first guests did, Father. You needn't keep checking up on me."

"Brenin, this is the young lady I was telling you about," said Lord Lugh, presenting Sarah's hand.

"Really Lord Lugh, I hardly need Brenin to spend the evening with me…I'm sure he has other things he'd rather be doing," Sarah protested looking shyly at her feet. She had seen the younger man's posture as they walked up to him and it was screaming that he was not interested in anything his father had to say.

Brenin listened to that voice, the voice of the woman who sang. It was soft and sweet and so familiar. He turned around, seeing her silhouetted in the light pouring onto the veranda from the great hall. Her slender neck, with auburn curls lightly teasing it. Her shapely curves held in the tender caress of silk.

"Brenin…this lovely lady is…" began his father.

"Sarah?" gasped Brenin, his mismatched eyes wide as he stared at her, a vision swathed in tartan and silk.

"Who… " Sarah began, her eyes narrowing. "No…it can't be," she moaned. "Jareth?"

Turning, Sarah fled into the great hall, desperately searching for Nana Gunn. She dodged through the dancers on the floor, a vague sense of déjà vu teasing her. The last time she searched through a ballroom she was looking for Jareth, this time she was trying to get away from him.

Sarah finally found Nana Gunn sitting in a chair near the bandstand, happily sipping a pint of ale, with her feet on a soft poufle. She was clearly having a lovely time as she sang softly along with the song being played.

"Nana, we have to go. Oh please, we must go now," Sarah pleaded, falling to her knees next to her grandmother.

Nana Gunn lightly caressed Sarah's cheek, her faded green eyes frowning in concern.

"What is it killean? Did Lord Lugh's son insult you? Lugh won't stand for that sort of behavior dear one," she began, moving to rise.

"No…no…nothing like that. Oh Nana, we just have to go …I should have never come tonight. Please…."

Sarah looked up into her grandmother's face, only to see her grandmother looking over her head. Groaning, Sarah buried her face in her grandmother's lap.

"Lugh, would you care to explain why my killean is so desperate to leave?" Nana Gunn demanded quietly, her eyes flashing a warning at Lord Lugh.

"Nay, Colleen. I had nothing to do with this. I am afraid my son is to blame," replied Lord Lugh, his voice low and sincere, "I too would like to know what is going on."

Kneeling next to Sarah, Jareth lightly caressed her shoulder as she clutched at her grandmother, "Please Precious, look at me…"

Nana Gunn chuckled, shaking her head as she pried Sarah's hands from her skirt. Sitting her granddaughter up, she rose and touched Lord Lugh's arm. "I think you'd better give me a twirl, my friend and let these two sort themselves out."

"Do you know what is going on here, Colleen?" asked Lord Lugh, his face grim as he took Nana Gunn's hand.

"Aye…and as High King I would've thought you would be more knowledgeable about the courting errors of your young'uns," Nana Gunn replied, her green eyes sparkling mischievously. "Or at least taught them what not to do."

Lord Lugh laughed, his rich baritone a luscious purr of amusement, "You know my true form, Colleen?"

Winking at him, Nana Gunn nodded. "I've known you were no mere male for many a year, but didn't realize your rank until this young'un of yours spoke to my killean. Since she told me her tale of woe…well…even an old woman like me can put the pieces together." Patting his arm tenderly, she sighed, "Besides, did you really think I would forget the one who tempted me greatly with pretty promises and tantalizing kisses."

"Ye Gods…I am sooo not hearing this," groaned Sarah, covering her ears. "My Nana has a crush on the High King."

Hearing Sarah's groan, her grandmother laughed, the sound ringing merrily, "T'was far more than a crush once upon a time killean…but that is a tale for another evening." Turning back to Lord Lugh, she smiled, her eyes shining, "Come my Lord and I'll tell you what I know of your son's miscalculations in dealing with the fairer sex."

As Lord Lugh took Nana Gunn's hand, she turned over her shoulder and addressed Sarah, "Killean… some love is forever. Don't end up like me, yearning for a love long past. Hear him out, my darling girl."

With that, she and Lord Lugh moved seamlessly into the crowd of dancers, Nana Gunn moving without pain for the first time in years, reliving the joy of dancing with the Fae once more.


	7. Wild Irish Rose

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Labyrinth, Jareth or Sarah. I wish I owned Jareth though *rower*!

**WARNING:** LEMON ALERT! Yup…this chapter is for mature readers only. According to my beta readers, you might want to have a cold shower on stand-by. Consider yourself warned.

**Author's Note:** My regular readers know that I have a phobia of writing lemons (not that it stops me). So…if you want more lemons, give me constructive feedback (ie. Am I too detailed, not enough, etc… Do you get all fangirlie and have the urge to 'squee'…) and help forestall any lemony panic attacks on my part. :)

**Special Thanks to futrCSI1490** who acted as one of my FF betas for this chapter. I have 'stage fright' when writing lemons and love having betas for them. So, if any of my regular readers/reviewers would like to be considered for 'lemony beta' duty...please let me know. :)

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><p>The dancers gave way to Lord Lugh as he led Nana Gunn onto the dance floor. As he began to guide her around the room, she smiled at him, shaking her head softly.<p>

"I would have thought with all your experience of women, you would have instructed the boy better," she chided Lord Lugh, her green eyes bright and smiling. "For being High King, I'm surprised you didn't know what was going on."

Leaning in close, his lips brushing near her ear, the High King chuckled, the sound making her heart flutter pleasantly in her chest.

"I do have a kingdom elsewhere to run, Colleen. I can't be nosing about in the boy's business all of the time you know."

Nana Gunn laughed, loving the feel of being back in his arms after so many years. Dancing with him was as she remembered - like dancing upon clouds.

"So tell me, my sweet Colleen, what has the rascal done to your killean to earn your ire?" he asked, spinning her effortlessly through the crowd.

"Quite simply, he proposed. She accepted and _then_ he saw fit to tell her that he was under a time constraint so as not to lose his throne," she replied, laughing merrily at the look of horror that crept over the High King's face. "Aye. But the boy is not alone in this mess. My killean is young, even for a mortal girl, and tends to react impulsively."

"Daft boy," Lord Lugh grumbled, his ice blue eyes shining with mirth, "I thought I taught him better than that when dealing with females, whether Fae or mortal."

Gazing down at Nana Gunn, the High King's face softened. Pressing her close he twirled her through the dancers.

"When I invited Sarah to the celebration as a guest for the boy, I had no idea that he was the one she was running from. I only knew she was fae-marked and had hoped that my boy might be able to find out more from her," he mused, peering over the heads of other dancers to where Jareth and Sarah glided through the crowd. Winking impishly at Nana Gunn, he grinned, "They make a handsome couple, don't you think?"

Nana Gunn nodded, peeking at the couple as they danced past. "Aye. And will make even prettier children. Tho I do wish they'd get on with it, I'd like to hold them before I die."

His lips brushed lightly against her cheek as his deep velvet voice whispered, "You still have the choice, my wild Irish rose. Why did you not seek me when your husband had gone?"

Nana Gunn's eyes flickered momentarily, a hint of pain passing over her face.

"He was a good man, but after you I was never fully content in his arms. Guilt is a powerful force, m'Lord. I couldn't bear the thought of disgracing his memory by seeking you," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.

"Aye. He was. But you deserve happiness, my sweet Colleen. If I were to make my offer once more, would you accept?"

Nana Gunn sighed, her pale eyes flickering with an unnamed pain. "And be but one of the High King's lovers secreted about the worlds both Above and Below? No… I think not m'Lord. As one who has loved both long and deep, to settle for less would surely corrupt the memory of my beloved Daniel, inflicting more pain than pleasure over the ages."

The High King nodded, his lips pursed as he considered the strong woman in his arms. She had turned him down once before, he was therefore not surprised that she had once again. As a young woman she had enthralled him, but demanded more from life than to be a mortal plaything of the High King.

"And should your killean desire that you join her Below when you become weary of being Above? What then, sweetling?" he asked, his strong fingers caressing her back as she pressed against his firm chest.

"Then I would gladly go to be with her, I am not yet too old for the adventure," she smiled wistfully.

"And should an old friend happen to call upon you there? Would you welcome his arm's embrace?" he enquired, the power of his very being and question making Nana Gunn blush.

"Forever and a day, m'Lord," came the breathy reply.

* * *

><p>Jareth guided Sarah around the floor, his pale eyes studying her. When he answered his father's summons to attend the annual event, she was the last person he expected to find in the small village of Balleymoney. Farmers, their wives, cattle and copious numbers of sheep – Yes. His beloved Sarah, Lady of the Labyrinth – No.<p>

As he danced her gracefully through the hall, Jareth noticed many of the local farmers smiling and nodding at her, while giving him stern, somewhat protective glances as if to say – 'she belongs to us and woe-betide the man who trifles with her.' Jareth couldn't help but smile at the way his Sarah seemed to enchant those she met, making them protective of her. She had done it when running his Labyrinth and apparently had the same effect on the farmers of Balleymoney.

Sarah let Jareth guide her around the floor, thinking back upon the many times she had danced with him since what she had come to think of as 'the Peach Incident'. Since she was 16 she had danced in his arms many times, for Halloween parties, a masquerade fund-raiser, private dances at home and even a frat party. No matter how many times she had been twirled around in his arms, she still felt a thrill from his firm touch upon her back guiding her, while his other hand tenderly held hers as if she were fragile and might break.

Dancing with him, she longed to put what happened behind her, but her inner-self demanded that the feeling of betrayal be dealt with. Sighing, Sarah finally spoke.

"So, I suppose you used your magic and found me after all?" she asked, a hint of despondency edging her voice.

"Honestly, love?" he replied, bracing himself for her to react badly to what he had to say, "I did use crystals to try to find you, but they stopped working several days ago."

"Really?" she asked, surprising him as instead of arguing with him, she merely smiled slyly.

Holding her closer, his eyes sought hers, "Precious, you _do_ still have the Goblin Queen's sigil, yes?"

Nodding, she whispered, "I have carried it close to my heart the whole time. I couldn't let it go. It was from you."

Sarah delicately plucked the black velvet ribbon from the front of her dress. She smiled mysteriously as she held the ribbon out, showing him the pendant as it swung, clinking softly against the iron key.

Jareth threw back his head and laughed seeing the iron key. _Cheeky minx_, he thought. _So that is how she thwarted me_.

"My clever Sarah. Someday I will learn not to underestimate you," he grinned broadly, shaking his head. "I was wondering how it was possible that I could not see you."

He held his hand so that it was shielded from others by their bodies and conjured a crystal that roiled with green haze.

"See," he said, "The crystal should show you since you bear the sigil, but the iron blocks it. It shows others though."

With a slight twist, the crystal showed Nana Gunn and the High King. Peering down into the crystal, Sarah gasped as she saw the High King kiss her grandmother.

"Oh now seriously," she muttered, not sure whether to laugh or be outraged. "I think your father is a bad influence on my gran."

Raising an eyebrow, Jareth smirked mischievously at her, "Think again, Precious. You haven't seen where her hands are."

Sarah blushed, unable to stop herself from giggling. The idea of her grandmother having been a lover of the High King was hard enough to accept, but seeing her kissing him, and apparently touching him, was a bit much to take.

Gliding around the floor in Jareth's arms Sarah sighed, gradually melting into his embrace. They danced in silence for several minutes. Jareth longed to explain and make her understand, but didn't know where to begin, settling instead for the pleasure of having her back in his arms. Humming softly, he pulled her in close as he pressed his cheek against her head, reveling in the scent of her, cinnamon, citrus and vanilla.

At last Sarah spoke.

"Jareth," she murmured softly, her voice muffled against his shoulder, "why didn't you tell me what the council was forcing on you in the first place? If we are going to survive this, you have got to start sharing council matters with me."

Smiling tenderly, Jareth brushed his lips across her forehead, eliciting a deep sigh from Sarah. At her reaction, he pulled her more closely against him, his hand warm against her back as he caressed her.

"Because, Precious, you are a dreamer and a romantic and I want to give you your heart's desire. If I had told you what the council wanted from me, then I would not have been able to sweep you off your feet with a proposal you would remember fondly," he explained quietly. "After all, had I explained, you would have known what was coming."

Sarah cringed at the realization that he had hidden things from her in order to fulfill her dreams. With a soft moan, she lay her head against his shoulder, shutting her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall.

"I'm so sorry, Jareth," she whispered, her voice breaking as she clung to him. "I said terrible things to you. Can you forgive me?"

His fingers sought her chin, gently cupping it as he raised her face. Seeing the tears in her eyes made his heart ache further. Tenderly, he brought his lips to hers, heedless of the eyes watching as the locals danced around them.

"Always, my love," he murmured softly. "Besides, it seems we are fated to be together, despite the misunderstandings that seem to befall us."

Seeing her puzzled expression, Jareth chuckled. "Sarah, I couldn't find you in my crystals. Your friends refused to tell me as they didn't know. And my father didn't know that the young woman he wanted me to keep company with tonight, was in fact my beloved who ran out on me last week. Yet, here we are once more. If you needed proof that we were destined for each other, I would think this would be enough."

Jareth and Sarah danced though the room, not noticing as the songs changed from one to another, losing track of time. Spinning her gently, Jareth smiled, is eyes flashing brightly at the sight of her, the long silk skirt swishing against her lithe legs while the corset caressed her breasts, as if enticing his touch. Sarah sighed contentedly as he moved her, her cheek pressed against his chest, letting the steady sound of his heartbeat fill her.

When Jareth stopped their movement, Sarah saw that he had danced her out onto the now empty veranda, the fairy lights in the trees glittering like stars. Jareth's lips gently sought hers, before he dropped to his knee before her. Sarah's emerald eyes opened wide in surprise, a pink flush creeping over her face as she looked down at him.

Taking her hand in his, Jareth smiled, his eyes soft as he looked at her. "Sarah, I ask this now for no other reason than the fact that I love you. My heart is already your slave and has been since I first held you in my arms. You are my equal and I long for no more than to have you by my side until the end of my days." Jareth pulled the sapphire ring from his pocket, sliding it once more upon her finger he gazed at her, his eyes shining pools in the lamp light of the great hall. "Please say you will be my comfort, my love and my queen from now until the end of time."

Sarah's hand caressed his cheek, tracing the aristocratic features she knew by heart. She opened her mouth to speak but found no sound, her eyes blurring with tears at the earnest expression on his face. Blinking back tears she whispered, "Yes," before pulling him up and throwing her arms around his neck. Her lips sought his, tenderly at first, as if pleading for his own. The heat pouring form his body combined with the intensity of the emotion coursing through her was incredible, threatening to burn her alive.

Jareth groaned hungrily against her lips, responding fervently to the plea inherent in her kiss. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he lifted her up, crushing her against him as he spun her around, losing himself to her kiss. Setting her back on her feet, he let his lips move from hers, heedless of the whimper she gave at their loss. Jareth kissed her cheeks, nose, eyelids and forehead in a flurry of tender caresses, before pressing his cheek to hers, his eyes shut as he tried to still the frantic beating of his heart that was thrumming joyfully.

Caressing her shoulders absently with his fingers, Jareth whispered hoarsely, "While I want nothing more than to whisk you away to the nearest private room, as the future Lord and Lady of the manor, we should probably restrain ourselves and socialize a bit longer."

Looking into her eyes, Jareth saw the barely restrained desire lurking beneath the surface and the way her pulse raced at her throat. He pressed her against the railing of the balcony, his hands framing her hips as his thigh slid firmly against her, making her gasp, quivering at the feel of him teasing the seat of her need. With a low groan, he devoured her lips, relishing the way she yielded at the onslaught. Sarah arched toward him as her hands wound their way into his hair. He felt her tremble, then her hands were sliding under his suit coat to caress him, before dragging her nails forcefully down his back. Shuddering under her rough caress, Jareth growled against her lips, desiring more of her and knowing that he would not find relief in merely kissing her.

"Damnit woman, are you trying to torment me," he murmured, his voice raspy with need as he pressed his forehead to hers, the usually pale eyes darkened with growing lust that demanded to be slaked. "Gods…. I want you…. _Now_."

Sarah's hands caressed the sides of his face, her velvet tongue lightly flicking over his lips, teasing him with the hints of dark promises. Breathing softly, her voice was hoarse in reply, "Then have me, my king."

With an audible groan, Jareth grabbed her hand, quickly leading her toward the side entrance to the manor. While he could have transported them directly, he could not risk one of the locals seeing them just vanish from the veranda. Seeing that the foyer was empty, he pulled her through the side hall and rushed up the stairs leading into the upper levels of the house. Sarah laughed softly as he practically dragged her through the house, finally stopping to wrench a door open, before thrusting her into the room. As soon as the door closed, he had her pressed against it, his lips crashing down upon hers. His tongue took possession of her mouth, swallowing her lusty moan.

Jareth's kiss ignited pure need in her, the fire boiling through her veins screaming for release. Sarah returned the kiss with a force of her own, no longer merely melting against him but fighting back and taking more. He tasted of sweet ale, the lingering flavor of apples and hops coating his tongue as she suckled it, forcing a low growl from him in response.

Ripping his lips from hers, Jareth attacked her neck, biting and sucking on the tender flesh until she whimpered, a sharp cry of pain and desire.

"Jareth…please…" she panted, her hands pushing at his jacket, desperate to touch him. "Jacket…off…" Sarah whimpered, squirming in his arms as his bites teased her further, making the fire in her belly flare hotter than she thought possible.

Biting her earlobe, he drawled darkly, "Eager are you Precious? Did you miss my touch that much?" He trailed his fingers lightly along her neck, teasing her as they ran down her arms.

Sarah shivered, at his touch. "More than you could imagine," she gasped, arching against him.

Chuckling low, Jareth's voice very nearly made her frantic. "I've a good mind to tie you down and tease you until you are screaming down the house, begging me to fuck you."

Sarah moaned louder at his words, feeling her core melt into liquid fire. Twisting a hand into his hair, she sharply tugged, a wicked smile teasing her lips as she purred, "Is that a threat or a promise, Goblin King?"

Growling, Jareth sunk his sharp teeth into the tender spot where her shoulder and neck met. In a flash she found herself naked on the bed, her arms stretched above her, unable to move.

"You push too far, Sarah love," he teased, his eyes devouring her as they raked over her naked form.

Blushing, Sarah relaxed against the bed, her emerald eyes flashing in playful defiance. "And you cheated," she protested weakly.

An evil smirk twisted his lips as he saw the way her body reacted to being naked and restrained before him. Her face flushed in a most beguiling way, the flush spreading from her cheeks downward, nearly suffusing her breasts. The cool air teasing her nipples, hardening them to taut peaks.

Forcing down his urge to ravish her, Jareth turned from the bed and walked toward the fireplace. With slow, deliberate movements he removed his clothes, draping them over the arm of a chair, leaving her wanting and waiting. Even with his back to her, he could tell her body was humming with desire, her breath ragged with the force of her need.

Returning to stand over the bed, Jareth looked down at her, his eyes dark with lust and wicked ideas. He leaned over her, his hand poised as if to touch her. Ever so slowly he traced the hand over her body, his fingertips hovering barely above the surface of her skin. A seductive smile glinted in his eyes as he watched her squirm and gasp at the mere thought of his touch.

Without warning, he did touch her, his fingers lightly gliding over her tight nipples, teasing them tenderly, before sharply rolling them in his fingertips. He felt his heart race as he watched her arch further under his touch, she had long since given up trying to hide her need from him. The more she showed him her desire, the more he wanted to taunt her, tease her, drive her wild. And he did.

Sarah's eyes fluttered closed. She could no longer remember why she was mad, only that she craved him, all of him. Sarah whimpered as his touch seemed to radiate through her like electricity dancing under her skin. As he glided his fingertips down the valley between her breasts, heading with a knowing smirk toward the fire burning between her thighs, Sarah moaned with abandon, surrendering to the sweet torture of his touch. Jareth chuckled, the sound a sultry rumble that assaulted her senses.

When his fingers found her core, he knew she would be wanting, but was unprepared for just how much, the slickness dripping along her inner thighs, so warm and inviting. Kneeling upon the bed, he watched her face as his fingers drove deeply into her, twisting inside until she arched violently upward, her jade eyes flying wide as the touch tore a cry of absolute delight from her parted lips. His eyes darkened visibly as they locked with hers, a wicked smile sliding over his features as he rubbed against the spot once more, relishing the mewling cry that wrenched from her throat. Repeatedly he caressed the sensitive spot inside her, teasing and taunting the vibrating nerves, knowing the continued sensation would be both thrilling and torturous.

With each thrust of his long fingers against the nerves inside her, her back arched – Sarah couldn't stop it if she wanted to. Forgetting the fact that they were in the manor and a party was still going on downstairs, Sarah whimpered and moaned with abandon now. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, as all thought and consciousness was focused upon the sensitive bundle of nerves that his hooked fingers were dancing over. Sarah cried out, begging him for more with inarticulate mewling noises, heedless of the wicked smile he gave her as he tortured her, keeping her on the edge, then backing off, only to tease her more and drive her closer. The feeling was both pleasurable and agonizing as the muscles in her legs and thighs tightened painfully to try to drag the orgasm from her.

Leaning low over her, Jareth's mouth found the tender bud nestled above her entrance, the warmth of his breath making her cry out fervently, begging him.

"Pleeeeease!" she gasped, panting and arching against the bonds that held her hands fast above her head.

Seeing her desperation, he was torn between wanting to tease her further and wanting to see her surrender fully to him. Finally, the realization that he could tease her for the rest of their lives proved to be too much for him. With a snarl of unbridled lust he bent over her, his teeth grazing roughly against the seat of her pleasure.

Sarah screamed, her body spasming violently as the pain of his teeth against her ignited the fire inside her. She felt her body clamp around his fingers, gripping them tighter than she thought possible, yet he continued to press against the sensitive nerves inside her, prolonging her release until the line between exquisite pleasure and delicious pain was fully blurred. Sarah knew neither pleasure or pain at that moment, only the unbearable feeling of both flying and falling. Her head thrashed as she lost herself to the orgasm he ripped from her. She was aware that she was screaming, but couldn't hear it, all she heard was the white noise crashing through her head as her vision clouded only to explode in a flash of white light behind her eyes.

He watched her succumb to her base instincts and need, momentarily halting his touch as he watched her thrash on the bed. As her breathing began to slow and her body relaxed, he flexed his fingers, an evil smirk teasing his lips as she cried out once more. Once. Twice. Three times and then, she mewled loudly, her body crashing around his fingers once more, her core forcefully clamping down upon him. Pulling his fingers from her, he heard her whimper at the loss, only to mewl as he thrust his tongue deeply into the silken sheath of her, tasting her lust and need as it coated him.

She thought the first two orgasms would rip her soul from her, but the sudden feel of his tongue deep inside her completely undid her. Arching against his chin, she felt every muscle in her body tighten, her core spasming repeatedly upon his tongue, which never stilled its movement. Screaming his name she gave in, letting her world crash down around her in a thundering cacophony of white noise and her own frantic heartbeat as it tried desperately to escape her chest.

Feeling her go from frantic thrashing to panting stillness, Jareth gently stilled his movements, purring inwardly at the pained whimpers she gave as he moved from her, knowing every nerve of her sex was now buzzing painfully from over-stimulation.

Sarah gasped as his touch turned from torturous to tender, feeling the warm heat of his tongue as it bathed her, washing away the slick wetness of her need. She panted, gasping for air as her blood still thundered loudly in her head. Feeling her body rock, she opened her eyes to see him crawling up the bed toward her, finally laying next to her and pulling her into his embrace. She found that her hands were freed and his were gently massaging her shoulders. With a purr of pure pleasure, she wrapped her arms around him, her lips seeking his. Tenderly she kissed him, thrilling at the taste of herself upon his lips. Tentatively she flicked her tongue over them, moaning softly as his lips parted for her. Slowly she sunk her tongue between his lips, unconsciously mimicking the movements his tongue had used to bring her to the brink of pleasure.

Hearing him groan against her, she pressed herself tightly against him. Feeling the rigid warmth of his erection against her belly, she threw her leg over his hip in an effort to pull him closer to her core, which still begged for completion that only he could provide.

Jareth growled feeling her heated core teased the tip of him, inviting him inside - an invitation he would not refuse any longer. Shifting slightly, he rolled her over, pressing her back firmly against his chest as his hand gently bent her waist, tucking her body against him. He lifted her leg over his as he grabbed her hips, teasing her entrance as he bit and licked at her shoulders. Slowly he pressed into her, groaning at the tight feel of her in this position, the way her body caressed him exciting every nerve with each stroke. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, one found her breast, while his other teased her sensitive pearl. His caress upon her sensitive flesh alternated between tender and sharp, tearing cry after cry from her body, knowing she was driven solely by her need for him.

Feeling her pressing harder back against him, meeting each slow stroke firmly, he rolled her further onto her stomach, his body pinning her to the bed. Jareth guided her hand under her body, until her fingers found the tender bud, her body writhing beneath him. His freed hand found her hair, entwining tightly in it he sought her mouth, ravishing her lips as he thrust deeper inside her, the rhythm building. The feel of her surrounding him the sweetest torture he could ask for.

Unable to hold back as she squirmed wantonly under him, he pulled her head back, his teeth sinking sharply into her vulnerable neck, making her scream as he pounded into her. Her body responded to the delicious mix of pain and pleasure and he felt her explode around him, the slick warmth spilling from her as he slammed against her soft body, screaming his release against her neck as he held her, crushed against his body.

"Mine…" he growled repeatedly as he shuddered within her. "Always mine."

Time seemed to stop. There was nothing but the feeling of naked flesh upon flesh, entwined legs, pleasantly sore muscles and sweat soaked bodies. They lay there, basking in the warmth of the fireplace as moonlight poured through the windows. Jareth's arms held Sarah close to him possessively, he had her now and would not let her go again.

A knock sounded at the door, making Sarah start. As she started to move, reaching automatically toward the sheet that had been pushed onto the floor, Jareth snarled, pinning her to him even tighter, "Piss off Father! Your room is down the hall, Old Man!"

Sarah blushed furiously hearing Lord Lugh laugh.

"Looks like they had the same idea," laughed Lord Lugh, the sound an amused rumble.

"Aye, m'Lord. Best leave them to that room and find one of our own," Sarah heard Nana Gunn say, a merry laugh chiming through the hall. "G'night Killean…sweet dreams," she laughed wickedly.

Hearing Sarah gasp, Jareth flicked his tongue over the bite marks on her shoulder, a deep velvet chuckle rolling from his chest as he whispered seductively in her ear, "I think I should make you scream some more and really show the old man how it is done."

Sarah whimpered needfully at the thought and blushed until she was sure she was glowing in the dark of the room.


	8. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

There is a rumor going around that Fanfiction is going to start policing stories – which, as my regular readers will know, means that many of my stories will be likely to be removed and I may shortly be banned. In anticipation of that, I am letting readers know where to look for all updates to my stories:

1. I have started a labyfanfic blog for my stories – but I'll happily post stories from other people as well! Go to labyfanfic(DOT)blogspot(DOT)com I haven't started adding stories to the blog yet, but will start that after June 14th.

2. I will post my 'adult' stories over on adultfanfiction(DOT)net I don't like that site because no one ever reviews tho, and I am a complete 'feedback slut'.

3. I also will start migrating my stories over to the deviantart site. My nick over there is HachimansKitsune too.

4. You can also find me on tumblr using the nickname – cheekygeek

It's been fun while it lasted!


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